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kesujo · 3 months ago

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Chapter 5: Miss Pet - Part 1

Previous chapter here.

“Oh, he’s coming to.”

Taeyeon’s voice was the first thing Seojun heard when he came to.

“Seojun?” So loud was the second voice that Seojun instinctively recoiled. “I’m so, so sorry!”

“Quiet down, Fany.”

“Oh!” Her voice came out as a hushed whisper, or at least that seemed to be the intention because the volume of Tiffany’s voice was more or less the ‘normal’ of Taeyeon. Seojun found himself smiling at the well-meaning gesture. “Sorry!”

“It’s OK,” he said, his voice coming out a little croakier than he would’ve liked.

“You’ve been out for over half the day; how are you feeling?” Taeyeon’s gentle, motherly voice was like a soothing wave of healing that washed through him.

“Really? Over half a day? I mean, not that bad honestly. Still a little bit fatigued, I think.”

“If you don’t mind, I can help with that,” Tiffany offered, cautiously putting one knee on the bed he was sitting on.

“Uh…”

Hearing the hesitation in his voice, Tiffany quickly added, “It wasn’t my Trait’s fault, it was mine! We were supposed to take occasional breaks but I was so engrossed that it completely slipped my mind. But what my Trait does is remove all feelings of fatigue and strengthens a body’s resistance to it. I promise it’ll help!”

Seeing Tiffany panic at the hesitation in his voice and interpreting it as a mistrust in her gave Seojun an injection of guilt. “Oh, no, sorry I wasn’t saying that because I didn’t trust you, I just … my brain was being a little slow since I just woke up.”

“…Oh.” Taeyeon laughed at the relieved demoness, a smile breaking out on Seojun’s face as well. “So, is that a yes?”

“So does that mean…” implying it still felt a bit rude despite the ease at which succubae seemed to address sex and related activities.

“You don’t mind kissing me, do you?”

“Oh, no, I don’t!”

Tiffany giggled at the perhaps over enthused response from Seojun, climbing fully onto the bed, her soft hands snaking around to the back of his head while her face neared his. And although he had just spent many hours fucking her, seeing Tiffany’s face come up to close to his caused his heart to race, the actual sensation of her soft, velvety lips on his causing the organ in his chest to go into overdrive. Seojun could swear he could hear every individual heartbeat as Tiffany’s tongue teased open his lips, a few seconds later a warm, slightly viscous liquid being passed into his mouth.

Feeling the foreign substance in his mouth felt simultaneously strange and arousing; he felt his dick twitch in response, his entire body shivering slightly as he felt the fluid travel down his throat after Tiffany pulled away.

His reaction to the transfer of bodily fluids aside, its effects were instantaneous. He could immediately feel the weariness in his muscles evaporate, replaced with the same vigor as during their sex binge hours before. “So?”

“Yeah—wow, I definitely feel better, thanks.”

“I think you can do better to demonstrate your gratitude.” It was Taeyeon who brought the proposition up to Tiffany, whose ears perked with interest. She turned towards the smaller succubus, eagerness in her eyes. “I can’t imagine it felt very pleasant to spontaneously fall unconscious like that.”

Seojun, however, was completely oblivious to the suggestive nature of the proposition, instead jumping in hastily, “Oh, no! It’s OK, I’m fine!”

“But don’t you think Tiffany should compensate you for your toils?” Seeing Taeyeon’s fingers curl around the straps of her skimpy top and pulling them down allowed Seojun to hear the suggestiveness in Taeyeon’s voice.

“Oh…” The semi-mortal man felt dumb for replying like that, but he couldn’t bring himself to agree. After all, Taeyeon and Tiffany were much older than him, and his Korean upbringing couldn’t help but feel hesitant demanding something from his elders.

“If you’re willing to settle for me, I’ll happily do anything you ask of me!” Tiffany’s eager reply partially blew away the hesitation Seojun was feeling, the rest evaporating with Taeyeon’s next few words.

“Also, I want to help demonstrate that sex with Tiffany isn’t always like that. Especially if you’re to bond with her, I want you to understand that, done properly, is just as great as it was yesterday without the negative side-effects following.”

“Oh, you’re so considerate! Thank you, Mistress!”

“Make sure to also thank Seojun for giving you the chance to redeem yourself.”

Tiffany turned around, bowing deeply. Seojun gulped, his eyes darting to the eyeful of her tits he captured, her nipples nearly visible from how loosely the top was hanging onto her ample chest. “Thank you so much, Master!”

Seojun wasn’t exactly sure when Tiffany and Taeyeon decided to slip into the roleplay or how they even decided it amongst themselves. However, now that it was happening, Seojun felt obliged to take part. He reached out to stroke her hair, a more content kind of pleasure coursing through his body at the immensely pleasing sensation of running his hand through what felt like a cloud. “You’re such a good girl, Tiffany.”

Tiffany nuzzled her cheek against his hand, another warm surge of joy surging through his body. Seojun had his fair share of experiences with cute pet behaviors, and Tiffany definitely matched if not exceeded that level of adorableness. Seojun could hear Taeyeon chuckling in the background, Tiffany enjoying Seojun’s hand for a few more seconds before the prey-turned-master retracted it. Tiffany opened her eyes and looked at him, a clear and unadulterated excitement in her eyes. “Thank you so much Master! I don’t deserve your kind words!” Seojun understood that they were doing roleplay … but was she really acting, or were these her genuine feelings?

“Before we start, you should feed more from Tiffany. Saliva definitely won’t suffice. So while you’re offering your pussy to Seojun, I’ll be using mine to warm up his dick.”

“I—” the jealousy was clear in her eyes, but she ended up swallowing the protest clearly visible in her pouty expression, and conceded. “I understand.”

“Are you OK with that, Seojun?”

The one thing that Seojun was unclear about was what his relationship to Taeyeon was, but her gentle inquiry confirmed that they were of equal status in this ‘scenario’. “Of course, Taeyeon.”

Taeyeon crawled onto the bed as well, Tiffany shuffling forward and taking his shirt along with her. Seojun aided her, the cloth coming over his head while Taeyeon’s hands wrapped around the rim of his pants and boxers, pulling them off in one swift motion.

Out sprung his semi-erect dick, precum splashing onto the plush surface of Tiffany’s slowly moving bottom. Her tail immediately sprang into action, collecting it and spooning it directly into her mouth. “Mmm, god, even Master’s precum is delicious…” her deep, sensual moan made him harder, the stiffening rod captured by the dainty yet firm grip of Taeyeon’s fingers.

“You’ll get plenty later if you continue being a good girl. OK?”

Tiffany nodded excitedly, slipping off both her bottom and the undergarments before turning around, presenting her delectable bubble butt to Seojun. Her hands reached around as his vision gradually filled with the delightful view of the excitable succubus’s ass nearing his face, her hands pulling the plump cheeks apart to reveal a pair of damp vaginal lips. “Master, are you ready?”

“I am.”

The confirmation was all Tiffany needed to back up the rest of the way, Seojun meeting her wet pussy lips with his own lips. Immediately, he could hear a soft sigh, her legs body shaking against his torso. As his hands took the job of keeping her tight, plump butt cheeks separated, Taeyeon transitioned from a firm handjob to shifting her own womanhood, radiating with heat, over his erect cock.

“Mistress…” Tiffany moaned, Seojun’s muted moan joining hers and Taeyeon’s as she penetrated herself with his cock.

“Be a good girl, Tiffany,” Taeyeon’s strained voice reminded Tiffany, fighting over the sound of her pleasure from Seojun’s tongue running across her wet folds, “and you’ll get your Master’s cock too.”

“Yes, Mistress…”

But while Tiffany was scornfully pouting in jealousy over Taeyeon’s access to Seojun’s cock, Seojun himself was in complete bliss. Even after an entire night of groping and feeling Tiffany’s firm, plush ass in his hands, it wasn’t enough. It felt like it would never be enough. He wanted more, squeezing and rubbing the pliable, taut skin beneath his palms, digging his fingers into the soft yet firm skin, the experience was made better by the sweet taste of Tiffany’s nectar dribbling onto his lips. Seojun didn’t let up, channeling the intense lust from Taeyeon vigorously riding his cock into kissing Tiffany’s vaginal lips with as much gusto and passion as possible.

“Ah…” Tiffany’s torrid moans continually streamed out of her mouth, arching her back and resting her arms on his torso to give him better access to her ass and leaking entrance. Her eyes fell onto Taeyeon, who was lost in her own world of pleasure.

Taeyeon’s hands were placed firmly on Seojun’s hips, rising until barely half an inch remained inside her before slamming back down onto his crotch. With every connection, bits of her honey splattered onto Seojun’s crotch, creating an increasingly damp landing area for her ass. The firm, crisp sound of her ass slamming onto his crotch gradually turned into a more muted, wetter noise.

Seojun could barely hear it though, Tiffany’s soft upper thighs pressed firmly against his ears. With his eyes closed as well, his other senses sharpened—namely, his sense of taste and touch. He became more aware of the amount of sticky substance from Tiffany’s womanhood dotting his face, the almost water-like consistency of her wet folds. He could feel the shivers sent up Tiffany’s spine every time he ventured downwards to flick the small, erect stub sitting below her entrance with his tongue and savor the endless supply of the succubus’s honey-sweet nectar flowing into and around his mouth.

He could feel Taeyeon’s heat. It was suffocating, burning, only intensified by the torrent of juices her pussy was smothering his cock with. He could feel the flesh, wet walls convulsing, almost massaging, the length of his shaft. He could feel it trying to suck him back in when Taeyeon pulled up and tighten its embrace after Taeyeon sheathed his dick completely. He could feel the flexing of her legs and elasticity of her more-than-supple ass with every stroke, and feel her cervix gently kiss his engorged tip after each downward thrust.

Seojun was so overwhelmed with lust and ecstasy, he was sure that if he was still a regular mortal man, he would have long passed out by now.

“Mistress…” another forlorn mewl escaped Tiffany’s lips, her breath shaking with arousal as she watched Taeyeon ride Seojun’s dick with fervor. The sound of Taeyeon’s ass clapping against Seojun’s crotch area could be faintly heard, nearly overpowered by the lust-charged sighs and moans from the two women atop the succubus’s servant.

Seojun carefully moved his hands away from Tiffany’s ass, around and towards the front. He moved his face downwards, his thumb gently but sturdily rubbing circles around the hard nub atop her slit. His other hand braced itself against her upper thighs, his index and middle fingers rubbing along the outside of her wet labia.

“Aah, Master!”

Her breathing grew deeper, her hands moving upwards and rubbing her own boobs. “Does that feel good, Tiffany?” Seojun asked, temporarily separating himself from her leaking slit, his fingers continuing their harsh rubbing along it.

“Yes, Master! It feels amazing!”

Satisfied, Seojun dove back in, capturing her lips in her nether regions in a liplock. His thumb continued its gentle massaging motions, the index finger from the other hand drawing lines across her inner thighs. He could tell that his every action was working magnificently, her moans growing louder and her legs shivering with every line drawn across the sensitive skin so close to their hot connection.

After finally getting into the rhythm of things, Seojun directed his attention to his mistress, whose hot vaginal walls were tightly clamped around the girth of his cock, sliding fiercely along its length. It took him a few seconds, but when he finally captured Taeyeon’s rhythm, he followed her downward stroke with upwards thrusts.

“Oh! Seojun, fuck!”

Taeyeon’s body shuddered against Seojun’s as a wave of ecstasy crashed down her body, his cock hitting all the way into her cervix. It was a feeling that Seojun figured he would’ve never been able to enjoy with his smaller-than-average dick size, but true to Taeyeon’s words, her pussy compensated for his size. This was one of the many, many reasons why he was thankful he found Taeyeon—or rather, Taeyeon found him: with Taeyeon, Seojun’s deprecating self-talk about his dick size completely disappeared. Every ‘feeding session’ they had, not only did he get to enjoy Taeyeon’s eternally tight, wet pussy, but Taeyeon always conveyed her satisfaction of him with her every movement. The way her eyes squeezed shut, the way her luscious lips parted, the breathy sound of her lustful sighs and moans, the vigor she always used, everything communicated to Seojun that his dick size was a complete non-issue to the succubus.

Maybe here he should say something sappy about ‘finally being accepted’ or something. But really, Seojun was just happy to fuck Taeyeon any chance she presented to him. Because man did every single time feel like a straight shot to cloud nine.

“Mistress…” this time, Tiffany’s voice came out as a whimper, a slight break in her gasping and moaning at the apex of his thrusts.

Although her voice was muted, Seojun could still detect the impatience in her voice. He could more so feel it in the way her hands restlessly rubbed his mid-torso area and her legs drumming against the side of his head. Feeling bad, he separated from her temporarily to speak. “Taeyeon, don’t you think Tiffany’s been a good enough girl to get a reward?”

“Hm, you may be right honey.” Hearing the pet name caused his heart to skip a beat.

Seojun had a conception that their relationship was not much more than a servant and a mistress. Of course, Taeyeon was kind and caring, and in that way she at times acted like a gentle, caring noona, but apart from those two, he figured there would be nothing further, especiallynot a romantic relationship. After all, Taeyeon was much wiser and smarter and more beautiful and talented and would undoubtedly live well past himself. In the grand scheme of her life, Seojun’s would pass by like a blink of an eye.

While Taeyeon calling Seojun ‘honey’ wasn’t the first pet name that she used to address him, but they were always to serve a roleplay—as they were now. And Seojun understood this; they were merely playing a role, but still, even the slightest hint at a romantic relationship between the two made his heart flutter. It was all but inevitable for such a normal man like him to fall in love with such a divine being like Taeyeon, especially after the amount of intimacy they’ve shared in the past weeks.

But Seojun didn’t dare bring this up. After all, he was stuck with Taeyeon for the rest of her life—and depending on how she felt about him, that could last as long as a couple hundred years or a couple of days if Taeyeon ever felt too weird about Seojun’s feelings for her to continue feeding on him. Even though she was a sex demon, Seojun wouldn’t put it past Taeyeon to feel guilty for continuing to feed on someone who had fallen in love with her if she didn’t reciprocate.

“Go ahead and turn around, Fany.”

“Th-Thank you, Mistress! Thank you, Master!”

Tiffany scurried off, Seojun taking a second to try to shake the sticky liquid accumulated on his face but to no avail. Taeyeon, seeing this, giggled, Seojun’s heart skipping another beat upon making eye contact with her. It was weird; his cock was currently buried deep inside her pussy, and not for the first time either—hell, probably not even the tenth time—yet it was seeing her eyes curve up with her lips that caused his heart to stir.

“You made quite a mess on poor Seojun’s face. Was he that good?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Tiffany’s head was turned, facing his, and reached down to wipe the residual juices that she had left behind. “Master’s tongue and fingers felt so good that I couldn’t help myself.”

“Are you ok darling?”

“I’m fine, babe.” Seojun was hesitant to respond with the pet name, his heart missing another beat but this time from anxiety at potential backlash from Taeyeon for calling her ‘babe’. Thankfully, it didn’t seem to faze Taeyeon at all; in fact, she seemed to like it, the corners of her lips curling upwards even further.

“Make sure to drink your fill, alright? And Fany, make sure to cum lots for your Master, OK?”

“I will! Although Master is so good that I doubt I’ll have any trouble with that,” she replied in a chipper voice, settling back down onto Seojun’s face. He took a second to situate himself and shortly after got back to work. A melody of moans arose from the taller demoness, her legs folded on top of themselves to alleviate her body weight from her pleasure-giver but spread apart enough that reconnecting with her labia wasn’t an issue.

Taeyeon’s movements had slowed down, moving from the fierce riding she was doing to a steady grinding of her hips, stirring the rod inside her like a straw inside a cup. Her tail whipped around her body, the tip materializing into the very object that was sheathed to the hilt inside her, and before Seojun had much of an opportunity to note how strange it felt to feel the cool air of the room along with the scorching heat of Taeyeon’s insides, the tail-penis was shoved straight into Tiffany’s backdoor.

“Oh! M-Master, fuck!” Seojun and Tiffany shuddered in unison, the feeling of another, considerably less damp and fleshy set of equally scorching hot walls clamp around his dick and the sensation from the tightness of her sphincter muscles travelling up and down the length of his dick as Taeyeon pumped her tail furiously inside the dark-haired demoness causing waves of pleasure to course through the bodies of both parties.

“Language,” Taeyeon warned, her own voice starting to tremble as she quickly picked back up where she left off, her wet groin sloppily connecting with his groin equally wet with the same fluid.

“I-I’m sorry, Mistress!” Tiffany seemed to be unable to keep her voice down, her back arching and her hands on her chest, rubbing the soft bags of flesh and pinching the rock-hard nipples at their peaks.

Seojun was a helpless slave to lust. His hips moved on their own, his fingers working on her clit and his tongue and lips working on Tiffany’s pussy while her other hole was being mercilessly pounded by Taeyeon’s tail-penis. He wasn’t sure if he was even thinking, even that heart-stopping sensation of love replaced with pure lust. The entire room exuded with the intense lasciviousness of all three parties, the rattling of the bed beneath them echoing about the otherwise empty house.

“Master, I’m close!”

“Be a goof gir and gib Maftur lafts of cum.” Seojun’s voice, although muffled, was audible and coherent enough to serve as the impetus for Tiffany’s orgasm. Heralded by a single, piercing scream, the immortal woman’s entire body succumbed to pleasure, torrent after torrent of her hot, sweet nectar squirting straight into Seojun’s mouth. The semi-mortal man tried his best to collect as much of it with his mouth, but his concentration was shaky at best—hearing the lewd scream of ecstasy, feeling her body vibrate as her orgasm wracked her body not only with his face but with the dick lodged firmly into her rear entrance, and feeling Taeyeon’s pussy tighten in response to seeing her fellow succubus succumb to an orgasm was more than enough to push the building dam over the edge.

“Urgh, fuck,” Seojun grunted, jets of white, viscous fluid shooting straight into the ass of Tiffany and the vagina of Taeyeon.

“A-Ah! M-Master, thank you for filling my tight little ass with your precious cum!”

His hips continued to thrust in and out of Taeyeon as he rode out his orgasm, the euphoric release driving his muscles to ride out the orgasm until it subsided a few seconds later. It barely took any time for Seojun to catch his breath, Tiffany’s Trait keeping his stamina high and his dick hard.

The energetic demoness unmounted Seojun, and upon seeing his face covered in her nectar, hurriedly moved over to help him clean his face off. “Thanks, Tiffany,” Seojun said after his face felt adequately clean.

She beamed in response. “Was I a good girl?”

After taking a few seconds to catch her breath, Taeyeon unsheathed Seojun’s cock, a barely audible whine pushed through her closed lips. It sprang free from its hot confines, soaked to the bone with Taeyeon’s juices, bits of it splattering onto his abdominal area. “What would you say, honey?”

“I think it’s appropriate for her to pay back me performing oral sex on her by her doing the same to me.”

Tiffany perked up, her eyes gleaming with excitement. Seojun couldn’t help but smile seeing Tiffany’s tail waving about excitedly like a dog wagging its tail. “Mistress, may I?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you! Thank you so much too, Master!”

Not wasting a single second, Tiffany and Taeyeon swapped position, Tiffany’s body hovering over her legs while Taeyeon hugged him from behind, Seojun having moved to a seated position. The semi-mortal man bit back an aroused sigh, the immensely satisfying feeling of Taeyeon’s ample bust pressed against his back causing a small shudder to roll down his system.

“Do you like my tits that much, babe?”

Another, much stronger shudder rolled down Seojun’s body at the sensation of Taeyeon’s hot breath against his ears, the pet name spoken with such an alluring tone that he had to clench his fists to fight back what would’ve otherwise been a perhaps embarrassingly loud moan.

Before he could answer though, Tiffany piped up. “Would you like me to use my boobs first or my mouth, Master?” Seojun’s gaze shifted away from Taeyeon’s head that was resting on his shoulder to the submissive succubus kneeling atop his legs. Her upper body was folded over her legs, but even so, Seojun could see the curve of her ass sticking out, still maintaining the moist appearance from before. Her voluptuous rack was resting inches away from his erect cock, the innocent inquisitive expression on her face providing a stark contrast to Seojun’s bulging cock inches below her chin.

Fuck, that’s sexy.

“Why don’t you put those tits of yours to use?”

“Gladly!”

Tiffany shifted forward, smothering his shaft still damp with Taeyeon’s honey with her mounds. Most of his member disappeared into the warm abyss of Tiffany’s tits, her hands holding them at the sides and applying a firm pressure onto it.

“Shit,” Seojun hissed, a shaky breath pushed out his mouth.

“Does Master like this?”

The way her eyes curved upward, leaving enough space open to see the absolute joy exuding from her brown orbs, her invitingly plump red lips also curved upwards into a dazzling smile, everything about her joyous expression was almost impossible to disagree with. “It feels fucking amazing.” But even without Tiffany’s infectiously joyous expression, Seojun would’ve said the same thing: it was like two warm pillows of flesh were tightly embracing the length of his shaft. Out of all the females he had copulated with so far, Tiffany definitely had the biggest boobs. And while this wasn’t the first time Tiffany had given him a titjob, the warmness and softness of her milk jugs, not to mention their volume and how thoroughly it enveloped his contrastingly rock-hard cock, felt heavenly.

“Does Master like my boobs?”

“Your Master loves them, Fany.”

The compliment clearly delighted the succubus, using greater vigor to squeeze tighter and pump faster. Again, Seojun briefly wondered how much of Tiffany’s reaction was acting because of how genuine her reaction seemed, especially since it can’t have been the first time, or probably even the hundredth time, she received a compliment for her boobs. They were incredibly beautiful, after all: its color was the perfectly pure white of fresh snow in the morning, the skin taught with not even a hint of a wrinkle in sight. They were perky and had a nice, round shape, the areola a nice pink color, at their centers even pinker nipples just big enough that seeing them made Seojun want nothing to do but to bring his mouth to them and suckle on them.

However, at the moment, they were bouncing up and down his shaft, following the gradually increasing speed of Tiffany’s hands.

“Master’s cock feels so good inside my tits, I—” She stopped herself upon feeling a sticky fluid coming in contact with the silky skin on her mounds. Her eyes narrowed in on it, a clear hunger in her eyes; she stared at the streak of white fluid on her white skin for a solid two seconds before painstakingly lifting her head, not bothering to remove the hunger from her gaze. “Master, may I have it?”

“Leave it.” Why was Seojun being so sadistic? He wasn’t sure, but something about denying Tiffany her delicious meal when it was so close to her made him salivate at the prospect of Tiffany’s reaction to finally receiving his dick. “I’m going to cum all over your beautiful tits, and you aren’t allowed to lick any of it off. Instead, you’re going to spread it all over them. Understood?”

Tiffany’s pained expression reminded him of a wounded puppy, but Taeyeon just laughed. “I didn’t know you were like this, honey.”

“This is also for Tiffany’s sake; the more I deny her, the more she’ll enjoy it when I finally fill her pussy with my cum, right?”

Hearing the words made Tiffany go cross eyed, her lust clearly getting the better of her: the speed and ferocity of her titjob increased even further, so much so that Seojun let out a surprised groan through gritted teeth.

“I think you still owe me an orgasm, babe,” Taeyeon whispered into Seojun’s ear, pressing her bosom further against his back, “But don’t let Tiffany know, she might get jealous.” Seojun couldn’t really comprehend the meaning of Taeyeon’s words until he felt that familiar yet still extremely strange sensation of the warmness of whatever his dick was lodged between and the cool air of Taeyeon’s house, that coolness shortly after changing to the intense heat of Taeyeon’s pussy.

“Master?”

Seeing Seojun’s facial expression contort at seemingly nothing, Tiffany’s puzzled expression peered up at him.

“You’re doing very well, Tiffany. You can go ahead and start using your mouth too.”

The proposal completely blew away the confusion from her face, pulling her chest away and dipping her head down onto his stiff shaft. Her torso arched downwards, inadvertently accentuating her ass even more, but Seojun barely had any time to admire it as Tiffany’s warm, wet mouth enveloped Seojun’s cock.

“Ah, fuck,” he groaned again, in both parts from feeling his cock hilting Taeyeon and from feeling the moist cavern of Tiffany’s mouth form a tight vacuum around his penis.

Tiffany bobbed her head up and down his shaft a few times, making sure there wasn’t a square centimeter of his dick not slathered with saliva by her tongue before coming back up. “Master’s cock tastes so good~” she sang, leaning down to plant a few kisses along its wet exterior. Parker could only grit his teeth, holding back the moans from the increasingly aggressive thrusts of Taeyeon’s penis-tail into her vagina.

“And Master’s cock feels so good inside my pussy too~” Taeyeon cooed teasingly, the softly spoken words drifting directly into Seojun’s ear.

“Fuck,” Seojun gasped. Tiffany looked up at him again, one hand gently fondling his balls while running her lips and tongue along the length of his rod.

“Does it feel that good, Master?”

Seojun nodded, although it was a slight lie. While Tiffany’s lips did feel amazing on his hardened member, it was the combined feeling of Taeyeon continually thrusting his dick so deep that he could feel its tip brush against her cervix with each thrust that drew the noise out of him.

“I’m very pleased right now Tiffany. If you continue being a good girl, I’ll let your pussy have my cock too.”

Seeing the sheer excitement in Tiffany’s eyes again, Seojun decided that it couldn’t be all acting. It just looked too genuine. “Really?!”

“You better make your Master cum if you’re that excited,” Taeyeon noted, only the slightest bit of strain in her voice detectable.

If Tiffany noticed, she made no indication of it, her eyes gaining a newfound determination. “Don’t worry Master, I’ll make you cum in no time.”

“A-And make sure you don’t swallow any of it.”

This time, the strain in Taeyeon’s voice was more apparent, but Tiffany was too focused to mind. Taking a second to dribble coalesced saliva onto Seojun’s penis and spreading it expertly along the sensitive skin with her boobs, she gave the swollen tip of the raging cock a gentle kiss before penetrating her lips with them.

“Aagh,” a warbled moan came out of Seojun’s mouth, finally able to let loose all the ecstasy from Taeyeon’s vaginal walls rubbing so ferociously against the same sensitive skin that was receiving kisses from Tiffany’s luscious, velvety lips. “Tiffany, god you’re so good…”

Tiffany tilted her head upwards and shot him a brief yet heartstoppingly gorgeous and sexy eye-smile before plunging the rest of the way down his dick.

“Ah, shit,” another moan came out of Seojun’s mouth the combined feeling of Tiffany’s throat and Taeyeon’s pussy suffocating his cock overwhelming him for a brief second. Drool started dribbling down the corners of her lips and onto his balls, but Tiffany didn’t let it phase her. She continued at a steadily accelerating pace, her throat flexing impressively around the girth of his penis.

“Use those horns.” Although Taeyeon wasn’t saying anything particularly provocative, the inherent sexiness in her voice itself was enough to distract him for a few seconds, only realizing what she was saying when she nudged him with her chin.

Seojun looked down, and sure enough, her horns had materialized out of her head, in the exact right position to be used as handles.

The gargling sounds from Tiffany deepthroating Seojun’s cock intensified as his hands found firm grips on the hard material and pushed her even further down. “That’s so sexy, isn’t it, babe?”

“It fucking is,” Seojun agreed, wanting to close his eyes from the influx of pleasure but not wanting to let the unique top-down vantage point of Tiffany’s impressive deepthroating go to waste.

It took about a minute or two before Tiffany came back up for air, her hair messy and saliva running down her chin. However, Tiffany paid no attention to it, peering up at her ‘Master’ while carefully rubbing her voluptuous tits against the saliva-drenched penis. “Did Master like it? Did Master think the horns were helpful?”

“I did, it felt amazing, and it was extremely helpful, Tiffany. You’ve been a really good girl so far, only a little more until your reward.”

An overjoyed squeal came out of Tiffany’s excited smile, rubbing the semi-mortal man’s cock a few more times with her boobs before diving back down.

“You’re pretty good at this,” Taeyeon whispered to Seojun playfully, reveling in the pleasure of her partner as he once again let out a guttural groan, feeling Tiffany’s throat once again hugging the circumference of his cock.

Seojun couldn’t find a chance to reply, his mind so overwhelmed with lust that it rendered his speech capabilities inert. With his impending orgasm, his movements became more erratic, the grip on Tiffany’s horns tightening and the matching thrust of his hips into Tiffany’s mouth so forceful that tears started leaking out of Tiffany’s eyes. Tiffany seemed not to mind, and in fact seemed to be pushed further by Seojun’s increased intensity and matched it readily.

By the time he neared the edge, he gave a warning before pushing her off. When they met eyes, Tiffany’s expression clearly told one of confusion and disappointment. “Remember, you aren’t allowed to swallow any yet.”

“Oh … ok…” Reluctant as she was, Tiffany obliged, obediently shifting her body so that her chest was level with his cock. It took only a few pumps before the dam burst yet again, flooding the inside of Taeyeon’s waiting pussy yet again while simultaneously splattering Tiffany’s boobs, her chin, her neck, her clavicle, and even parts of her areola and nipples with the sticky white substance.

The most precarious strip was a streak that landed on the corner of her lip, extending to her cheek. Seojun could see the temptation in Tiffany’s eyes, her mouth parting briefly but summarily closing upon meeting Seojun’s cocked eyebrow. Her hand shot up and collected the two streaks that landed on her face, planting his seed on the soft bags of flesh on her chest. Seojun watched, Tiffany’s hot gaze trained on Seojun’s as she ran her hands all along her upper body, smearing the globules of cum all about her pearly white skin until what was left was a thin, shiny covering of Seojun’s seed.

“Good girl, good job, Tiffany.”

Taeyeon sneakily unplugged her pussy and reverted her tail back to its original state before separating herself from him.

“Does this mean…?”

The hopeful expression in her eyes caused another smile to sprout on Seojun’s face, the expression quickly changing when Seojun confirmed with her, “How do you want it?”

Next chapter here.

443 notes · View notes

saythenametotheworld · 28 days ago

Text

Did You Like Her in the Morning? | c.vn (18+)

How do you move on from the man you thought you'd marry? You can't. As you navigate the bittersweet memories of your shared dreams, you are forced to grapple with the harsh reality that Vernon has found someone new.

one | two | three | four | five

Genre: strangers to lovers (to exes), smut Pairing: Chwe Vernon x afab!Reader Warnings: angstyyy, mature themes, explicit sexual content (18+), cheating!!! Notes: 27k words. Part 4 of the Heartbreak Hotel series, but it can be read as a standalone fic. Listening to Did You Like Her in the Morning by NIKI. This was too long and I tried to cut it down but I couldn't leave anything out lol. ENJOY~~ Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know them personally and do not claim they would ever behave like they were portrayed in this story.

Playlist: Did You Like Her in the Morning by NIKI, champagne problems by Taylor Swift, Fine by Taeyeon, His Car Isn't Yours by Wendy ,

“What are you making?” you heard Vernon’s familiar voice behind you as his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into the warmth of his embrace. He pressed a soft kiss on your cheek, and you leaned back into him.

“Eggs,” you replied, smiling as you rolled the omelet in the pan.

Vernon hummed, nuzzling his nose against your neck, sending a shiver up your spine. “I love eggs.”

“Good,” you chuckled, basking in the gentle intimacy. “Because that's all we have. We need groceries.”

“Then let's go together later,” he murmured, turning you to face him.

You smiled at the sight of your boyfriend, handsome in the morning light filtering through the windows of your shared apartment. There were remnants of sleep in his half-lidded eyes and messy locks of brown hair. His lopsided smile was something you’d grown familiar with but still couldn’t get enough of. He was beautiful in a way that made your chest tighten with love and disbelief.

You lifted the spatula, careful not to graze his neck as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Tiptoeing, you pressed a brief but tender kiss to his lips. “Did you sleep well?”

“The best sleep I’ve had in days,” he murmured, his voice low as he brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His hand lingered on your cheek, thumb tracing the outline of your jaw. “Thanks to you.”

You rolled your eyes, though the warmth in your chest spread. “You’re welcome,” you teased, “but go set the table. Let’s eat breakfast before we leave for work.”

He grinned, but instead of pulling away, he tugged you closer. “Breakfast is good, yes, but…” He paused, one hand traveling down the length of your spine and stopping at your backside. He cupped it with his hand, squeezing ever so gently as he pressed his lips on your ear. “There’s someone else I wanna eat.”

A soft laugh escaped you. “Now, now,” you said calmly, putting your hands on his chest and pushing him back slightly. “Food first.”

You turned back to the stove, turned it off, and put the rolled omelet on a plate. Vernon followed behind you, unable to keep his hands to himself as he tried to touch you everywhere while trailing kisses on your neck and jaw.

“Nonie,” you chided softly, though your body was doing something else entirely—tilting your head to the side so he could nip at your neck with ease. You let out a soft sigh—warmth and goosebumps spreading through you when he sucked on your skin.

“I love you so much,” he whispered, hand cupping your breast as he ravished your neck again.

Then, without warning, the world shifted. The comforting scent of eggs and the morning light faded. Your eyes fluttered open, and instead of Vernon’s embrace, you were met with the cold, dull gray of the ceiling above you. The room was deafeningly quiet save for the faint hum of the air-conditioning cutting through the silence.

You opened your mouth to breathe, eyes darting around the room as you tried to transition out of your dream and back into the dreary reality of your present. The faint ache in your chest grew sharper as you slowly sat up, pressing the heel of your hand to your temple, trying to shake away the dream—no, the memory that you thought would not visit you again until today.

On your nightstand, your alarm clock was glowing, highlighting bright red numbers, 9:30 pm. “Fuck this,” you muttered to yourself, rubbing your hands over your face.

In need of fresh air, you stepped out of your quarters and trekked the quiet hallways of the hotel, heavy thoughts weighing on your chest. Walking without a set direction brought you to the hotel bar, where the low murmur of conversations and the clinking of glasses provided a welcome intrusion to your scattered thoughts. Your eyes scanned the room, landing on Seungcheol, nursing a drink alone at the bar.

Sighing, you crossed your arms over your chest, leaning on the entryway as you watched him curiously. This enigmatic stranger came to your hotel seeking services in the form of storytelling. When you think about it, it was a strange request, asking a stranger to share anecdotes of her past relationships and why they failed. But now that you were watching him from this distance, with his eyes locked on his glass seemingly lost in his thoughts, maybe it wasn’t a strange request after all. Maybe, behind the enigma that is Choi Seungcheol, was a lonely man trying to make sense of the things that had caused his own relationship to fail.

“Whatever,” you muttered, walking straight toward him.

He looked up as you approached, surprise and relief washing over his face. “Good evening.”

You nodded, sliding onto the stool beside him. “Mind if I join you?”

“Please do.” He gestured to the bartender for another drink. “Your company is most welcome.”

You took a moment, watching the bartender pour your drink and push it toward you. Then for a second, you stared at it, swirling the contents of your glass. “How do you move on from the person you thought you were gonna spend the rest of your life with?”

Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “Is this another story? I’m all ears.”

You took a sip of your drink, the spice lining your throat and leaving a bitter aftertaste on your tongue. “Alright then. Tonight, I’ll tell you about Vernon Chwe.”

“The one that got away?” he asked, leaning in with curiosity.

“Something like that,” you replied, your mind drifting back to memories that felt so fresh, that one would think it all happened yesterday.

Blind dating was a game of hit or miss. At least, that’s what you believed. When Mina set you up with her friend’s friend, you’d expected it to be just like any other blind date—awkward, forced, and uncomfortable, not that you’d been in one before. This was your first, and you almost didn’t show up if not for Mina’s insistence that you only need to do it this once then she wouldn’t bother you again if you ended up disliking the whole thing.

With lowered expectations, you walked into the restaurant, bracing yourself for nothing more than polite small talk between two people who didn’t want to be there. You weren't expecting much—a brief chat, maybe a rushed cup of coffee, and then an awkward goodbye.

The cafe staff pointed you to his table and you approached carefully, studying the back of his head.

“Mr. Vernon Chwe?” you prompted politely, peeking slightly at his face.

He glanced up at you and you were momentarily caught off-guard by the gorgeous pair of light brown eyes. His appearance alone was already surpassing your expectations by miles.

“Yes, hi!” he greeted, standing up at once and offering his hand for a shake. He said your name and it rolled off his tongue effortlessly, as if he had practiced it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

He was well-dressed in a neat white shirt and a light brown button-down, the sleeves rolled just enough to look casual but put together. His hair—neatly styled yet effortlessly tousled—framed his face perfectly. And that face? Sculpted, handsome, with sharp features softened by a warm, welcoming smile.

“The pleasure’s mine,” you replied.

When he moved to pull out your chair, it didn’t feel forced or like he was 'trying too hard.' His gestures were smooth and respectful, like second nature. You blinked, trying to keep your surprise in check as you took the seat he offered.

“Thank you,” you said, setting your purse aside as he sat across from you, his movements just as easy, just as considerate.

“How was the commute? I hope it wasn’t too far for you,” he began, right as the waitress handed you menus.

“Oh, no, not at all,” you said, smiling. “I actually walked here. I live nearby.”

“That’s a relief,” he replied, his tone sincere, as if your comfort genuinely mattered to him. You were struck not only by his appearance but by how well-spoken he was. His voice was steady, polite, and confident without a trace of arrogance.

After you both placed your orders, there was a pause. But it wasn’t the dreaded awkward silence you had imagined. Vernon didn’t rush to fill the space with idle chatter. He simply sat there, watching you with attentive eyes, as though he had all the time in the world. You noticed then how carefully he observed you—his gaze steady but not overbearing, his expression open and genuinely curious.

You nodded, feeling more at ease than you expected. “Yeah, I do. And you’re in… software development, right?”

“That’s right,” he confirmed, leaning back in his chair. “But I promise I won’t bore you with tech talk.”

His playful smile made you laugh softly, and the ease with which the conversation flowed caught you off guard. It was seamless. No awkward pauses, no forced topics. And Vernon wasn’t just polite—he was thoughtful. He asked questions about your life, your interests, your thoughts on books and movies. And he listened, really listened, like every word you said was worth considering. Every now and then, he’d tilt his head slightly, his smile never far from his lips and his attention never wavering.

Time passed quicker than you realized. The conversation was so comfortable, so engaging, that it wasn’t until your phone buzzed that you noticed the hour.

“Oh no,” you murmured, frowning at the time. “I’d love to stay longer, but I have work tomorrow.”

“I understand,” Vernon replied, smiling warmly. “It’s getting late anyway. Shall we head out?”

He offered to walk you home, and you didn’t hesitate to accept. The night was cool, the air crisp as the two of you strolled through the quiet streets. You kept chatting until you reached your apartment complex. You couldn’t help but linger just a little longer under the streetlights, hoping time would stretch on and you could spend more time together.

“I had a really great time tonight,” you admitted, slightly embarrassed by how much you meant it.

“I’m glad,” Vernon replied, turning to face you. His eyes sparkled under the light, and for a second, you forgot where you were. “I’d love to do this again if you’d allow it.”

You paused, not because you were unsure, but because it felt almost too good to be true. You hadn’t expected this. Not from a blind date. And yet, here you were, standing in front of your apartment, feeling something stir in your chest that hadn’t been there at the start of the evening.

“Yeah,” you answered, a genuine smile tugging at your lips. “I’d like that.”

His smile widened, and there it was again—that effortless charm. Everything about him—from the way he carried himself to the way he spoke—felt disarmingly natural. His manners, his attentiveness, his respect for your space, all of it was impeccable. This was a man who knew how to make someone feel seen and heard. It was almost unsettling how easily you connected with him.

Before parting ways, he took a step closer, his hand brushing gently against your arm in the most careful, respectful way. “Goodnight,” he said, his voice low.

“Goodnight, Vernon,” you whispered.

And just like that, Vernon Chwe became someone you couldn’t stop thinking about. The blind date you thought would be awkward and forgettable had turned into the beginning of something promising.

“Tell me everything!” Mina gushed when she Facetimed you the next day. “Don’t skip a detail. What happened?”

“Aren’t you too energetic for a Monday morning?” you teased, patting moisturizer into your skin.

“Paul said Vernon kept talking about you after the date. Does that mean it went well?”

You smiled, remembering last night, and Mina caught on immediately. She clapped her hands. “It did! Oh my God! How was it?”

“It was great,” you replied, trying to sound casual but failing because you couldn’t stop smiling. “Vernon was... really great. He was nice, polite, funny—and he’s handsome too.”

You told her about the date while getting ready for work, and by the end of the call, Mina was patting herself on the back for setting you up. You laughed it off, but inwardly, you were grateful. She had insisted on this blind date, and now, well… things were looking good.

Later, at work, you greeted your coworkers cheerfully before settling in at your desk. It was going to be another mundane day of taking reservations and answering guest queries, but today felt different. The thought of Vernon had put a little extra bounce in your step.

“You look happy,” asked Sally, a coworker and a friend. “Date went well, I take it?”

“It went amazing, Sal. Don’t be surprised when I get a boyfriend in the next few weeks,” you chimed, lifting your shoulders with pride.

Sally sighed, leaning her elbow on the back of your chair. “Guess I’ll be eating my dinners alone from now on.”

“I hope not,” you chuckled. “And let’s not count our chickens before they hatch. We still have a long way to go.”

“You’re the one who’s talking about having a boyfriend!” she chided playfully, nudging your shoulder. As she walked away, the phone rang, so you took it to your ear.

“Diamond Hotel, how may I help you today?” you asked with practiced ease.

“Hi, is this…” The man on the line said your name.

“Yes, this is she. How can I assist you?”

“I’m calling to reserve a table at the Diamond Hotel Restaurant.”

You started typing away, already processing his request. “Can I have your name for the reservation? And when would you like it?”

“It’s uh… Vernon Chwe.”

You paused, fingers hovering over the keys as you wondered if you’d heard him right. “Vernon Chwe?” you repeated, heart racing at just the mention of his name.

“Yes,” he answered, and you could practically hear the smile in his voice. “I’m booking a table for two, but only if my date agrees to dinner on Friday night.”

He has a date? You pondered, a sudden pang of disappointment hitting you. That was quite unexpected. You just went on a date with him last night and you thought it had gone well. Now he has another date?

You chased your thoughts away, maintaining a professional tone when you said, “I’m sure she’d love to if you asked nicely, Mr. Chwe. The hotel restaurant has an impeccable menu.”

“You think so?” Vernon asked, sounding curious.

“Absolutely.”

“What’s your favorite off the menu?”

You hummed thoughtfully, pulling up the list of recommendations on your computer. “There are a few things I can recommend, but I’d suggest you check out the Menu of the Day once you get there.”

“I see, but I need to know your favorite so I can remember to order it for you.”

Ah, now you got it. You smiled, glancing around to see if anyone was listening. “Mr. Chwe, shouldn’t you ask your date first if she’s available Friday night?”

“Well, are you available Friday night?”

“Maybe,” you chimed.

Came Friday night, you met him outside your workplace, told him you canceled his reservation, and asked him to take you elsewhere.

“I lied about the hotel menu,” you said as soon as you approached him. “All fancy stuff, nothing that’s actually good. Let’s go somewhere else.”

Vernon laughed at your admission, throwing his head back as he casually offered his arm for you to hold onto. “So? Where should we go then?”

“Actually, I’m not sure,” you replied, sliding your hand around his elbow before you started walking down the sidewalk. “I know a place just around the block. Their fajitas are to die for.”

“Alright, then. Lead the way.”

Without thinking much about it, Friday nights became your thing. Vernon would pick you up after work, his car always parked at the same spot by the entrance, and from there, you’d go from one spot to another, trying different foods and discovering new places together. At first, he insisted on taking you to posh restaurants—decent places with cloth napkins and polished silverware. It was sweet, but you could tell he was trying a bit too hard and you didn’t want him to do that—especially considering the startup company that he had just launched with his friend.

One night, after yet another fancy dinner, you decided it was time for a change. You took him to a small, family-owned burger joint tucked between two larger chain restaurants. It was far from glamorous, but it had character—and, as you both agreed, the best fries in the city.

“See?” you said, grinning triumphantly as you dipped another fry into ketchup. “Hidden gem.”

Vernon chuckled, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied expression. “I guess I should’ve let you pick the places from the start.”

“It’s a perk that comes with working in the hospitality industry. You get to know where the best places in the city are,” you replied with mock arrogance, making him laugh again.

You watched him for a bit, taking in his easy demeanor and the slight flush on his cheek caused by laughing. He took some fries, dipped them in the sauce, and ate with gusto.

“I like this better than seared salmon. What do you think?” you asked.

Vernon glanced over, his eyebrow quirking in surprise. He seemed to understand what you were trying to imply. “Are you sure? I thought… well, I wanted to take you somewhere nice.”

“I know, I appreciate it. But I think our time and money would be better spent on food we would genuinely enjoy. Don’t you?”

He laughed, and the sound was easy and light. “I think so too.”

And from that night on, things became better. Your dates grew simpler—more relaxed and spontaneous. You spent Friday nights strolling along city streets, your hands full of fast food bags instead of wine glasses.

The pressure of formality faded, replaced by easy conversation and laughter that came naturally between bites of burgers or slices of pizza. You didn’t feel like you were trying to impress each other anymore. Instead, you were just getting to know each other—two people enjoying each other's company, no pretense, no expectations.

“You have ketchup on your chin,” Vernon pointed out one night, his eyes glinting with amusement as you wiped at your face, missing the spot completely.

“Where?” you asked, wiping again, only to have him shake his head.

“Here,” he said softly, reaching across the table to gently swipe it away with his thumb. The gesture was so natural, so intimate, that it made your heart skip a beat.

“What’s going on? Are we filming a movie or something?” you asked—an obvious attempt to defuse the growing tension between you.

“Yeah, and you’re a bad actress,” he retorted, grinning.

“Do you wanna know why?” you asked, cocking an eyebrow playfully. “It’s because God thought it wouldn’t be fair to other people if He had given me talents in acting and performing. I’d be unstoppable as a celebrity and He knew it. He had to draw the line somehow.”

You had expected him to roll his eyes, but Vernon chuckled heartily, scrunching his nose with what looked like cuteness aggression. “God made you so adorable too.”

You simply shrugged, as if to take the compliment nonchalantly despite the giddiness you were feeling inside. “Born this way. What can I do?”

You used to look forward to Fridays because it marked the start of the weekend when you needed not to go to work. Now, Fridays came with a different kind of anticipation—the kind that came in the size of a Vernon Chwe. Your ��dates’ weren’t just dates anymore; they were a ritual, a habit, a comfort.

You got to know each other better this way, sharing dreams and aspirations. You told him how you were on the lookout for an opportunity to write, and he talked about his startup—how it was both exciting and exhausting to build something from the ground up. You listened intently, watching as he animatedly explained the challenges he face.

“I didn’t realize how much work it would be,” he admitted, taking a bite of his burger. “Some days, it feels like I’m making progress, but other days… I don’t know. It’s like I’m just treading water.”

“You’ll get there,” you said, offering him an encouraging smile. “I mean, Mark Zuckerberg’s Facebook didn’t become a billion-dollar enterprise overnight, did it?”

Vernon glanced at you, his expression softening. “Thanks. That is oddly reassuring.”

You felt a warmth spread through you at his words. He hadn’t said it outright, but there was a growing closeness between the two of you—a connection that went beyond the casual dates and easy conversations. It was in the way he looked at you, the way he listened to your every word, and how he valued your words like you were an important person in his life.

Bit by bit, these Friday nights were becoming something deeper. And as you sat there with him, sharing burgers and laughter, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, you’d found something you wanted to hold onto.

The more you got to know Vernon, the easier it became for him to bring you into his world. The first time you really saw him in his element was when he invited you to a tech convention as his plus-one. You hadn’t known what to expect—just a room full of serious people talking about things that flew over your head. Tech enthusiasts passionately discussing the future, engineers excitedly showcasing innovations, and the occasional investor looking polished and reserved—it was a melting pot of people who were said to be at the very core of humanity’s technological advancement.

“Come meet my business partner,” Vernon prompted, pulling your attention from the crowd.

You followed him to a table where a small group of people stood chatting. Vernon tapped a man on the shoulder, who turned around immediately.

“Vernon! Finally. Where have you been?” the man asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Sorry, man. Traffic was brutal,” Vernon replied. “This is my friend, Boo Seungkwan. We founded the company together.”

Seungkwan gave you a grin, his eyes glinting with humor. “Nice to finally meet you, though I heard nothing about you. He’s been keeping you a secret, something about not jinxing it, whatever that meant.”

You smiled. “That’s fine. I’ve heard plenty about you.”

“Oh, really?” Seungkwan leaned in, lowering his voice playfully. “Did he tell you I’m insufferable and run the place like a dictator?”

You laughed. “No, actually. He said you’re the best at managing the company’s money and keeping things together.”

Vernon shot Seungkwan a look. “See? No badmouthing.”

Seungkwan scoffed, turning back to you. “Give it time. Once you two get close enough, he’ll spill all my secrets,” he ranted jokingly, making you chuckle.

Watching Vernon in this environment where he clearly belonged made you realize how seamlessly he could move between these worlds—his professional world and the easy, laid-back version of himself you’d grown close to. While he was deeply immersed in this world, always kept an eye on you. Even in the middle of a conversation, he’d look over, checking in without saying a word.

As you settled into the flow of the event, Vernon was suddenly called up to the stage to present their latest project. He leaned in before leaving, his voice soft in your ear. “I’ll be back soon. Wish me luck.”

You smiled, giving his arm a squeeze. “Good luck!”

He flashed a quick smile before making his way to the stage. You watched as he stepped up to the podium, transforming from the Vernon you spent casual Friday nights with to the CEO Vernon Chwe—confident, composed, and incredibly eloquent.

“Good evening, everyone,” he began, his voice steady as he launched into his presentation. He spoke with passion, seamlessly balancing technical jargon with approachable explanations and engaging everyone in the room.

He looked different up there. Not in a way that made you feel distant from him, but in a way that made you see him in a new light. He wasn’t just the guy who made you laugh over greasy burgers. Up there, he was someone who commanded respect and attention—a leader, fully in control of his domain. His intelligence shone through in every word, and you couldn’t help but feel proud.

When he clicked through the last slide, the room burst into applause. Vernon gave a modest bow and stepped down from the stage, his eyes scanning the crowd until they found yours. He smiled—this time, not the professional smile he gave to the audience, but one meant just for you.

Seungkwan elbowed you lightly, leaning over to whisper, “He’s impressive, isn’t he?”

You nodded, unable to look away from Vernon as he approached. “Yeah,” you murmured. “Really impressive.”

As he reached you, Vernon sighed in relief. He glanced at Seungkwan and you. “How’d I do?”

“You were amazing,” you said, your voice soft but sincere. “You looked so cool up there.”

“Yeah, so cool. You totally sold it. Investors are gonna—oh! Here comes one now.” Seungkwan walked up to meet the man approaching your circle.

You both watched him for a bit as he engaged in a serious discussion with the man. Vernon’s touch on your elbow shifted your attention to him.

“I’m hungry. Do you wanna get out of here?” he asked, eyes gleaming with mischief.

“Don’t you need to talk to these people?”

He shrugged. “Seungkwan will take care of it. He’s better at conversing with these people than I am.”

“You sure he won’t mind?”

“Totally,” he replied, taking your hand in his. “Let’s go.”

Vernon took you to a Mexican restaurant where you stuffed your faces with food and talked about anything and everything. After that, he said he’d show you to their office, and snuck you there in the middle of the night.

“This feels illegal,” you told him as he led you through the dim hallways.

“Well, technically, it is. Seungkwan is pretty strict about workplace conduct, so no girlfriends in the building, and especially not in the middle of the night like this.”

“I didn’t know I was a girlfriend already,” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

Vernon’s eyes widened as he stammered, “No, I don’t mean— I meant girlfriends in general, not just my girlfriend specifically. What I meant was if an employee or someone in the company had a girlfriend—or boyfriend—they’re not allowed to bring them here to, you know, hang out or whatever it is that people in relationships do.”

You smirked, enjoying how flustered he had become. “You know, you were really attractive when you were talking earlier. All eloquent and smart. I didn’t think you could ever stutter like this.”

He gave you a sheepish grin, rubbing the back of his neck. “Is that bad? Did I ruin my ‘cool’ persona?”

“Not at all,” you replied, your voice softening. “Quite the opposite. You’re cute.”

He laughed, though it was soft, nervous even. “Thanks, I guess?”

You stood together in front of the sleek glass doors of their office building, and Vernon swiped his keycard to let you in. The lights inside were dimmed, casting a soft glow over the open-concept workspace. It felt intimate, like you were stepping into a new part of Vernon’s life.

“I swear, this place is usually more lively during the day,” Vernon murmured, his voice low as if he didn’t want to disturb the quiet.

“I can tell,” you replied, eyeing the desks. There weren’t that many of them, just about a handful. The office was just large enough for less than ten employees, and you could tell they were in the earliest days of establishment.

You stopped in front of a glass-walled office room, a small one with a desk at the center and a nameplate with Vernon’s name on it. “Is this the CEO’s office?” you teased, stepping inside and running your fingers along the edge of the desk.

“Something like that,” he replied, leaning against the doorframe, watching you. His eyes were darker now, his posture more relaxed, but there was a certain intensity in the way he looked at you. “This is where Seungkwan bosses me around, and I pretend I know what I’m doing.”

“You seemed pretty convincing earlier during the presentation,” you teased. “All eloquent and smart. I didn’t expect to see you in full business mode.”

He grinned. “You liked that, huh?”

You turned to him, taking a deep breath. “It was impressive, yes,” you began, voice soft. “And I have to admit, I did want to see your office but not in the middle of the night. It feels a like we’re breaking the rules.”

Vernon chuckled, pushing off the doorframe and walking toward you, hands shoved casually into his pockets. “I did say we were breaking a rule,” he said, his tone lighter. “But, for the record, I think Seungkwan would make an exception for you.”

You smirked, holding his gaze. “Would he?”

“I mean, I would,” he said, the words coming out more confident than before. He was close now, standing just a step away. “I’d definitely make an exception for you.”

There it was. The shift. The air around you seemed to hum, like the tension had finally caught up with you both. You could feel it, the way your heart started beating faster, the way Vernon’s eyes flickered between yours and your lips.

“That’s because you want to sweep me off my feet. Seungkwan doesn’t like me like that,” you teased, keeping a lighthearted tone and pressing an index finger on his chest.

He held your hand and kept it there. “Well? Am I good at sweeping you off your feet?”

“Well, you’re…” you paused, keeping your eyes locked with his as the space between you grew smaller and smaller. “...adorable.”

“Adorable, huh?” he murmured, his voice lower now, rougher around the edges. He seemed less concerned with the conversation and more focused on whatever was happening between you.

His hand came up, almost tentative, fingers brushing against the side of your face as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “You’re making it really hard to follow the rules right now,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart raced at the closeness. “Maybe we don’t need to follow them tonight,” you replied, lips quirking into a small, daring smile.

Vernon smiled back. “I’ve never been good at following rules anyway,” he murmured, his thumb lingering just at the side of your face, his touch barely there but enough to send ripples of warmth through you.

You didn’t say anything, but you didn’t need to. Instead, you closed the space between you, rising on your toes just slightly, enough for your lips to meet his in a soft, lingering kiss. It wasn’t rushed or frantic—it was deliberate, the kind of kiss that had been building for weeks. Vernon responded in kind, his hand moving to cup the back of your head as he deepened the kiss. There was something sweet in the way he kissed you, something gentle that made your heart flutter, but there was also an undeniable heat—like he had been waiting for this moment as long as you had.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were a little breathless. “Okay,” you whispered, meeting his gaze with a teasing grin on your lips. “Now I can definitely say you’re adorable and hot.”

He laughed warmly. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

“Did you sleep with him?” Mina’s voice rang out, loud and direct through your phone. You hurried to cover the screen, as if that could somehow muffle her.

“No, I didn’t!” you hissed back, your tone sharp enough to scold. “We just talked, and then he took me home. That’s it.”

“Why not?” Mina pressed, not letting it go.

You leaned back in your chair, arms crossing defensively. “I don’t know. He just… stopped halfway. Then he said he’d take me home. I think he wasn’t ready to go there yet, and honestly, I was fine with that. I don’t want this to be a one-time thing.”

“Girl, even if you had hooked up, there’s no way this would be a one-off. You’re way past that.”

“Right?” you agreed, thinking it over. “I thought so too. But I kinda liked that he didn’t push for more. His actions told me he wants to take things seriously with me, don’t you think?”

“Totally,” Mina said, her voice buzzing with excitement. “Oh my god, I really like this Vernon guy for you.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at her enthusiasm. “I like him too. Thanks for setting us up.”

Mina made a smug sound, clearly pleased with herself. “You’re welcome. Now go make him fall madly in love with you, okay?”

You laughed, but as you ended the call, Mina’s words echoed in your mind. You hadn’t realized it until now, but you were falling for Vernon—slowly, deeply, and in a way that felt entirely different from anyone before him.

And you continued falling for him—with every Friday night spent together, with every late-night conversation when his deep voice lulled you to sleep, and with every weekend spent exploring new places and activities he thoughtfully picked out. Each moment felt more intimate than the last, a slow and steady unraveling of who you were together, effortlessly comfortable yet thrilling in its own way.

You noticed the little things that made him, well, him—his mannerisms, the politeness in his tone even when he was talking casually, his little thoughtful gestures, how he could somehow always remember exactly how you liked your coffee, or how he always made sure you were walking on the safe side of the sidewalk. These were the things that made your heart feel full, as if the entire world narrowed down to just the two of you when you were together.

One weekend, he asked if you wanted to see a movie with him—a break from your usual routine. It was one of those perfect days where everything just seemed to fall into place. The air was cool but not too cold, the traffic lights turned green just as you approached, there was barely a line at the cinema, and you got the best seats in the house. Even your popcorn tasted better than usual.

You watched the movie quietly. Every now and then, you felt Vernon’s eyes flick toward you. Whenever you caught him staring, he’d look away, only to glance back a moment later. He seemed... nervous.

Halfway through an intense scene, where the protagonist was inches away from confronting the villain, Vernon leaned in, gently tugging your elbow.

“Can I ask you something?” he whispered, his voice barely audible under the suspenseful music.

You blinked, startled by the interruption. “Now?”

He nodded, his smile almost sheepish. “Yeah, now.” You leaned closer, expecting him to comment on the movie or make a joke but instead, he took a deep breath.

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

For a moment, you thought you’d misheard him. In the middle of a suspense movie, with the protagonist literally facing life-or-death stakes, Vernon had just asked you to be his girlfriend. You had to stifle a laugh, quickly covering your mouth to avoid disturbing the other moviegoers.

“Are you serious?” you whispered back, your eyes wide with amusement.

He nodded, his grin growing wider, though his nervousness was still apparent. “I know. I know, the timing’s weird. But I’ve been thinking about it all day, and I just couldn’t wait anymore. I wanted to ask you now. Here. I don’t know why… I just—”

You could see the sincerity in his eyes, the way he was practically holding his breath, waiting for your answer. The softness of his confession, paired with the ridiculousness of the setting, made your heart swell. It was so him—earnest, sweet, and dorky all at once.

You smiled, warmth flooding through you. “Of course, I’ll be your girlfriend. But you know this is the worst possible time to ask, right?”

Relief washed over his face, and he chuckled softly, clearly flustered. “Yeah, I kind of panicked.”

“If I had known you were gonna do this, I would’ve picked a rom-com,” you teased.

Vernon grinned, his hand slipping into yours. “It would make a funny ‘How Your Mom and I Got Together’ story though, don’t you think?” he whispered back, eyes twinkling with that familiar Vernon charm.

You rolled your eyes playfully, leaning your head on his shoulder. “You’re such a dork,” you whispered, your words filled with affection. And as the suspenseful music swelled around you, you couldn’t help but think that this out-of-place, spontaneous confession was exactly the kind of memory you wanted to hold onto.

And so you’d officially become his girlfriend, and even though nothing really changed in the way he treated you—still sweet, still thoughtful—it felt different in the best way. Everything felt a little lighter, like you were walking on cloud nine.

The next morning, you woke up with an inexplicable giddiness bubbling inside you. Vernon texted you good morning with a picture of his messy bed hair and a caption that read, “Your boyfriend just woke up. Isn’t he handsome?” You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop smiling at your phone.

You: the handsomest!

In the days that followed, being in a relationship with Vernon felt like the easiest thing in the world. There was no awkward transition, no need to overthink anything. You just were together now, and it felt natural.

You spent Friday nights hanging out at your place, sometimes ordering takeout and binge-watching your favorite shows. He’d wrap his arm around you, pulling you close as you both debated whether pineapple belonged on pizza—it didn’t, according to him, but you had other opinions. His hand would absentmindedly play with your hair, and you’d find yourself smiling for no reason at all.

You found yourself getting used to all the sweet texts, random kisses on your forehead, and the way he’d always pull you closer when you least expected it. There was a sense of security in being with him, like you didn’t have to worry about anything because Vernon was there—steady and kind.

You knew you’d made the right choice. Vernon wasn’t just sweet or thoughtful—he was the kind of person who would always go the extra mile, who made you feel cared for in the smallest but most meaningful ways. And being with him was fun. There was something light and easy about it, like the two of you were building something beautiful without even realizing it.

And of course, you also found a way to keep things interesting. One weekend, you planned a surprise road trip—“Just pack a bag and drive. Don’t ask questions,” you told him over the phone.

You ended up driving to a cozy cabin by the lake, where you spent the weekend hiking, making s’mores by the fire, and cuddling under thick blankets while watching the stars.

“Thanks, love,” he murmured against your hair. “I needed this.”

You snuggled closer into his warmth, letting him tighten his arms around you. “You’re welcome. You’ve been working nonstop since last week. I figured you should take a break.”

“Seungkwan’s gonna kill me for slacking off.”

You chuckled, tilting your head upwards so you could meet his gaze. “I don’t think he will. He was so happy when I told him I’d take you away for the weekend.”

“He was?”

“Yeah. He was so grateful,” you replied, reverting your gaze back to the starry night sky. “I thought he’d kiss my feet.”

He hummed thoughtfully. “Have I been working too much? Didn’t feel like it.”

“People saw it. I saw it,” you said. “I know how important this is for you but you don’t have to push yourself too hard, Vernon. What’s the point of all this if your body gives out?”

“I didn’t realize I was that bad,” Vernon admitted, breaking the silence. “I mean, I knew I was working hard, but I didn’t think it was too much. Truth is, I feel like I should be doing more.”

“You do plenty, Vernon,” you replied softly. “You’re passionate. That’s one of the many things I love about you. But, you know, even superheroes need a break sometimes.”

He smiled, his hand gently tracing patterns on your arm. “You think I’m a superhero, huh?”

“Well, you’re definitely my hero,” you teased, nudging him playfully.

He chuckled, his chest vibrating under your cheek. “Thank you. I needed this. I needed you. It’s nice to have someone who reminds me to slow down.” His gaze turned serious for a moment. “You have no idea how much I appreciate that.”

His honesty touched you, and you found yourself smiling up at him. “Well, it’s part of the girlfriend duties, I guess.”

Vernon leaned in closer, his forehead gently resting against yours. “You’re doing a really good job.”

You giggled. “I also have to pull you out sometimes because what about me? I need your attention too!” you whined playfully, pouting. “Lots of it.”

“Right now, I’m all yours,” he chimed, nuzzling his nose on your cheek.

The air between you shifted, softening with the closeness. His eyes, normally so full of focus and energy, now held something softer, something deeper. Your breaths mingled, and the world around you seemed to fade into the background.

Your eyes landed on his lips—plump, pink, inviting, upturned in a lazy smile. Your heart fluttered with the thoughts of kissing him swimming in your mind. “You know,” you whispered, “you could thank me properly.”

His lips twitched into a playful smile. “Oh? And how should I do that?”

You bit your lip, the corners of your mouth curving up as you glanced at his lips, then back to his eyes. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

Vernon’s smile widened, his hand moving to cup your cheek as he leaned to kiss you again—slowly, deliberately, deliciously. His hand slid down from your cheek to the small of your back, pulling you closer. His touch was tender, yet there was some strength in the way his fingers pressed into you—a subtle intensity that matched the growing heat between you both.

The world around you seemed to blur, the crackling fire and the cool night air fading away as you focused entirely on him—his lips, his warmth, his steady breathing. Your hands found their way to the nape of his neck, your fingers tangling in his hair. You could feel the shift in him too—his breaths becoming deeper, his body relaxing into yours while his lips moved with more intent.

When you finally pulled back, your heart was racing, your faces still so close that you could feel his breath fanning your face. His eyes searched yours, asking a question that he didn’t need to say out loud. There was no need for words—everything you both felt was there in the way you kissed and held each other.

Without breaking the gaze, Vernon leaned forward, placing a soft kiss on your neck, then another, his lips grazing your skin with such care that it sent a shiver down your spine. The tension was spurred not just physically but emotionally—a culmination of the trust, the affection, and the love that had been building between you.

“Vernon…” you whispered, moaning as he sucked a bruise on your collarbone. “Vernon, let’s… let’s go back inside.”

Without a word, he rose to his feet, lifting you with ease. You locked eyes only for a second before he leaned in for another kiss that he didn’t break until you were back inside the cabin. It wasn’t long before the two of you were lost in each other’s touch, filling the quiet night with labored breath and whispers of sweet nothings in each other’s ears.

Making love with Vernon for the first time was magical—so much more than you’d imagined. It was beautiful and satisfying. He was attentive to your needs and made sure you were comfortable all throughout. What you weren’t expecting though, was the aftermath. Ever since that night, there had been a small but unmistakable shift in Vernon—he couldn’t seem to keep his hands to himself anymore.

He’d sneak up behind you when you were cooking, wrapping his arms around your waist, trailing warm kisses along the curve of your neck, making it impossible to focus on anything else. Sometimes he’d press his crotch on your ass, making himself known. If you were sitting on the couch, reading, or just relaxing, he’d find a way to pull you onto his lap, his hands gently resting on your waist or your thighs. Sometimes, you’d catch him staring at you with that look, like he was waiting for a chance to pounce and devour.

“Vernon,” you’d tease, laughing as you tried to push him away half-heartedly, but his arms would only tighten around you, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

“What? I can’t help it,” he’d say, his voice low and playful. “You’re too irresistible.”

You couldn’t deny it—you loved how close you’d become, how his affection seemed to overflow in the quiet moments you shared together. And yet, there were times you had to remind him that the world existed beyond the two of you.

Like that one time at the grocery store, when he reached for your hand and tugged you into the nearest aisle, pressing you up against the shelves with a grin.

“Vernon, we’re in public,” you whispered, cheeks flushing as you glanced around to make sure no one was watching.

He just shrugged, his lips brushing against your ear. “Doesn’t mean I don’t want to kiss you right now.”

You rolled your eyes, but you let him steal a quick kiss anyway, unable to resist the giddiness that bubbled up inside you every time he acted like this—like he couldn’t get enough of you.

“What happened to you? Since when did you get so….” you’d asked him one time when you had just arrived from work and he was already up on you.

“I got a taste of you. That’s when,” he replied, grinning before he pinned you down the bed.

It was both endearing and exhilarating, this new phase of your relationship, where everything felt so easy, so light. You were falling even deeper for him, caught up in the joy of just being together, in love, and in sync. It felt like you were living in a dream, where Vernon was both your best friend and your lover, and you couldn’t wait to see where this adventure would take you next.

Just like that, a year passed like a beautiful, fast-paced blur—a time spent in moments of laughter, late nights, and whispered intimacies.

Winter came first. You spent cozy evenings at your place, wrapped up in blankets, sipping hot cocoa, and watching snowflakes fall from the sky. One particular night, after a snowball fight outside, you’d collapsed on the couch, laughing and drenched from the snow. Vernon pulled you into his arms, warming you with his body and peppering your face with soft kisses, each one melting away the cold.

You spent that Christmas with his family, who welcomed you like you were one of their own. The fireplace crackled warmly, the glow of the Christmas tree lights twinkled like stars, and the scent of pine filled the air, wrapping you in a nostalgic embrace. You felt at home in their care, much like how Vernon made you feel safe and cherished every day.

Spring arrived, and with it, new adventures. You both took long walks through blooming gardens and parks, hand-in-hand, admiring the colors and the new life that seemed to pop up everywhere.

It was also the time when Vernon’s startup had taken off in ways neither of you had anticipated. After months of hard work and sleepless nights, the official launch of their software was met with enthusiastic support from consumers and investors alike. This new milestone in his career meant more late nights at the office, and while you missed him, you celebrated his success as your own, often texting him little reminders of your love during his busy days.

You often attended work galas together where you couldn’t be any prouder seeing him in his element, confidently navigating conversations with clients and investors. Vernon always had a way of making things look effortless. He’d occasionally glance your way, flashing you a soft, knowing smile whenever your eyes met from across the room, making you feel like the most important person there, even among the fancy suits and champagne flutes.

By the time summer rolled around, the two of you were already inseparable. He had earned enough to get himself a bigger apartment, and he’d invited you to live with him. Without a second thought, you accepted, giddy at the prospect of sharing every waking moment together.

On weekends, despite his hectic schedule, Vernon always made time for you. No matter how tired he was, he’d insist on going out for brunch or planning a mini-adventure to clear his head from the work week. It was one of the things you admired about him—his ability to balance ambition and affection, making sure you knew you were never second to his career, even when he was juggling so much.

You went on beach trips a handful of times—your way of making sure he gets his rest. You’d run down the shoreline, laughter echoing as he pretended to chase you, only to sweep you into the waves for a splash-filled embrace. The salty breeze tangled in your hair, the sun warmed your skin, and the sound of his laughter filled the air—it was a slice of pure freedom. You’d spend hours lying on a beach towel together, your head resting on his chest as he traced lazy patterns on your back, feeling completely at peace.

There were times when work stress started to get the better of him, though. He would come home exhausted, bags under his eyes, and you’d find him sitting on the couch, staring into space. During those moments, you’d sit beside him, take his hand, and just let him breathe. He’d always pull you into a hug, sighing in relief, as if just being near you helped ease his mind.

Autumn came swiftly, marking a year since you’d become official. Your jobs still took up most of your time, but you’d always come home to each other’s embrace. Almost a year to the day since he’d asked you to be his girlfriend, you both went hiking up a nearby mountain, relishing the crisp autumn air and breathtaking view. When you reached the top, Vernon pulled you close, his breath visible in the chilly air. “This past year with you has been the best year of my life.”

He wasn’t usually the sentimental type, but the sincerity in his voice made your heart swell. You kissed him, long and deep, filled with all the love that had grown between you.

Yet, your relationship wasn’t without its trials. You had fights too, arguments that were either petty or intense as you navigated the complexities of a steady relationship. Vernon’s calm and understanding demeanor guided you through the turbulent waters. Each time you emerged stronger, growing as a couple and as individuals.

“I know you’re a grown woman, and I know you’re capable of taking care of yourself, but—” Vernon paused, running his fingers through his hair in exasperation. “You still have to let me know when you’re coming home late and where you’re going so I’d know where to find you if anything bad were to happen.”

You pouted, arms crossed over your chest as you stared at the wall, unable to meet his gaze. He sighed, reaching for your elbow, gently tugging you face-to-face. “I hope you understand what I’m getting at,” he said softly.

“You still love me, right?” you asked, still scowling and still avoiding his gaze.

“Look at me,” he insisted, but you turned your head away. “Love, look at me when you ask me that.”

You finally glanced at him, biting your lower lip as you fidgeted with the sleeves of your T-shirt. Vernon pushed the hair out of your eyes and lifted your chin, his gaze steady. “I love you so much. Nothing’s changed.”

As the year drew to a close, you reflected on how much had changed since that first movie night. You had built a life together, rich with love, laughter, and countless small moments that brought you closer..

As snow began to fall once again, marking the beginning of another winter, you found yourself daydreaming about what the next year would hold for the two of you. Whatever came next, you knew one thing for sure—you were in this together, and that was all that mattered.

You stepped out of the closet, dressed neatly in your work uniform—a beige top with a matching beige pencil skirt. Vernon was sitting on the edge of the bed, phone in his ear as he talked to who you assumed was Seungkwan.

“Okay, got it,” he said, smiling upon seeing you. “Yeah, I’ll be there before 10. See you.”

“Is that your work wife?” you asked after he hung up, tying your scarf around your neck as you walked toward your boyfriend.

“Stop calling him that,” Vernon chuckled, his laughter warm and inviting as he welcomed you into his arms when you moved to sit on his lap. “He hates it.”

You grinned, tilting your head to the side as he pressed a soft kiss on your cheek. “Well, he is your work wife. Wait—no. I think ‘Work Mom’ would be better. He’s like a mom, very strict and always nagging.”

“Why don’t you two like each other?” he asked, fiddling with the scarf around your neck, tugging at it playfully until it came undone.

“Ex-wives and new wives don’t always get along, love. Everyone knows that,” you quipped, leaning back to meet his gaze.

Vernon hummed thoughtfully, his eyes glimmering with fondness as he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “We gotta fix that. Can’t have my wives fighting all the time or else I’d crumble to the ground. You guys are the reason I’m still standing, did you forget?” His kisses trailed up your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.

You giggled as his nose tickled your ear. “Yeah, no. Seungkwan and I are close. We just fight for fun. I thought you knew that?”

He took a long sniff of your skin, his eyes fluttering closed as he moaned quietly, clearly enjoying your scent. His hand began to unbutton your blouse, but you playfully pushed him back. “What?” he asked, his gaze dreamy and half-lidded.

You huffed. “You’re insatiable,” you grumbled, shifting your positions and pinning him down on the bed.

Vernon was caught off-guard but only for a second. He relaxed on the bed, placing his hands under his head as he watched you straddle him with amusement in his eyes. “You look amazing up there.”

“Really? Well, you look like you’re running late. Get up,” you demanded, standing up abruptly and striding over to the full-length mirror to fix your scarf, a playful smile lingering on your lips as you caught your reflection.

Vernon followed you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. The warmth of his body against yours was comforting. “Ten minutes?”

“No,” you replied without missing a beat, your smile widening at his hopeful tone.

“Seven?” he pressed on, his voice teasing. “Okay. Five. How about five?”

“No. You’re supposed to be at work by 10 am,” you chided, packing your stuff into your bag. “And I’m supposed to be in mine in thirty minutes.”

“Alright, fine,” he conceded, pouting playfully, and you couldn’t help but laugh at his exaggerated disappointment. You helped him put on his coat, patting it down and taking a moment to marvel at his sharp appearance. The way he looked in that coat made your heart flutter. “Do I look handsome?”

You giggled, tiptoeing to plant a quick kiss on his lips, savoring the warmth of his smile. “Very. Come on, let’s go.”

At work, the familiar hum of chatter and the soothing ambiance of the hotel welcomed you. Today was the day of the promotion announcements, and despite the anxious knots in your stomach, there was a flicker of hope within you. As you settled into your cubicle, you exchanged a smile with Sally, both of you sharing that unspoken excitement. You spent a few minutes organizing your workspace, distracting yourself from the jitters.

Finally, the manager gathered everyone in the conference room. Your heart raced, your mind wandering to what it would feel like to hear your name called. A promotion would mean more than just a new title; it would feel like a validation of your hard work, a step forward toward something more fulfilling.

“And finally,” the manager said, his voice pulling you back to the moment, “Sally, our newest concierge who will be gracing the front desk from now on.”

A round of applause erupted, but the sound felt muted, and distant. You clapped along, though your hands felt heavier with each passing second. Sally beamed, and while you were happy for her, a weight settled in your chest. You had worked just as hard and poured just as much energy into the job. Yet here you were, still in the same place, while Sally was moving forward.

As the applause died down and the meeting wrapped up, you returned to your desk, your steps slower than before. You felt pride for Sally but you were also frustrated about the recognition you thought you’d receive. You reminded yourself that promotions sometimes came down to factors beyond performance, like qualifications—Sally had a degree in Hospitality, while you didn’t. Undeniably, you were good at your job, but you didn’t have the same training as Sally and the others.

You sat down, staring blankly at your computer screen. You didn’t dream of managing reservations every day. Back in college, you’d chosen Communications because you had dreams of becoming a journalist, of writing stories that mattered. The hotel reservation desk wasn’t where you thought you’d be.

The phone on your desk rang, jarring you from your thoughts. You took a deep breath, forcing a smile as you picked up. “Diamond Hotel! How may I assist you today?”

You couldn’t deny how much you enjoyed the stability of your day-to-day life—especially with Vernon by your side. The two of you were happy, navigating life together, cheering each other on in your respective paths. Vernon, with his drive and passion for his startup, was thriving. And you, well… you liked being part of his success story, the one who was there to help him unwind, to be the arm candy beside him at work events.

But the more you thought about it, the more you realized—his success wasn’t enough to fill the gaps in your own. Vernon was doing what he loved, chasing his dreams, and growing in ways that inspired you. Meanwhile, you were stuck in a job that felt safe but unfulfilling, and every day, it became harder to ignore that nagging feeling in your chest—the one whispering that you were meant for more.

You glanced over at Sally, who was now chatting excitedly with your manager. Her promotion felt like a reminder of what you were missing. And while you weren’t resentful, the ache of unmet potential gnawed at you. It wasn’t jealousy—it was the realization that somewhere along the line, you’d stopped pursuing what truly mattered to you.

“Are you ready?” Vernon asked, walking into the bedroom to find you putting on a thick jacket over your dress.

“Yeah, let’s go,” you smiled, accepting his hand and letting him guide you out of the apartment.

It was the weekend and you were set to meet your family for dinner. The evening air outside was cold, with a chill creeping in as winter began to settle into the city. You walked hand-in-hand with Vernon, the streetlights casting a soft glow over the two of you as you headed toward his car. His thumb gently brushed over your knuckles, and you couldn’t help but smile at the small, affectionate gesture.

The drive to your parent’s place was quiet, filled with the comfortable silence that came after years of being together. This was Vernon’s first time meeting your parents in person, and although you knew they’d love him, you were still nervous thinking about how the night would unfold. Vernon must’ve sensed your unease because he reached for your hand and squeezed it reassuringly.

“You okay?” he asked, eyes searching yours with gentle concern.

“Yeah,” you nodded, giving him a small smile. Only then did you notice the slight but unmistakable furrow in his brows. Paired with his clenched jaw, you could tell he was nervous. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just a little nervous.”

“Aw. Don’t worry. They’re gonna love you,” you chimed, kissing his knuckles. “Just like I do.”

He laughed softly, your confidence easing some of his tension. “That’s the plan,” he replied, eyes still fixed on the road ahead.

You had told your parents all about Vernon—how caring he was, how ambitious yet down-to-earth, and how he always knew how to make you feel at home. But seeing him interact with them, watching their first impressions form, felt like a major milestone in your relationship.

When you arrived, the familiar sight of your childhood home came into view, the porch light already on and your family’s laughter spilling out from the windows. Vernon parked the car and turned to you with a grin. “Ready?”

“Ready,” you smiled, letting him intertwine your fingers.

As soon as you rang the doorbell, the door flew open and your mother welcomed you with a warm embrace. “There’s my beautiful girl!”

“Hi, mom!” you greeted, hugging her back. Behind her, your father was standing with a smile. “Dad!” you exclaimed, moving to hug him next while your mom greeted Vernon.

“You must be Vernon,” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am. It’s nice to meet you,” he replied rubbing your mother’s back when she pulled him into a hug.

Your father regarded Vernon, greeting him with a manly pat on the back and a handshake. Letting them get to know each other, your mother guided you into the house, whispering in your ear, “He looks so much better in person.”

“Right? I told you he does,” you replied and you both giggled all the way to the dining hall.

Dinner was a lively affair, filled with stories, laughter, and, as expected, the occasional nudge about your future plans with Vernon. But you took it all in stride, enjoying the simple pleasure of being surrounded by family. Vernon, as promised, managed to deflect most of the pointed questions with his charm, turning the conversation back to lighter topics whenever things got too personal.

“How come you waited this long to bring him home?” your mom questioned, and you could only smile sheepishly.

“Oh, I know,” your father joined in, sniggering. “She wasn’t expecting him to last this long.”

“Dad,” you chided softly, shaking your head. “That’s not true.”

He turned to Vernon. “It is. She was trying to see if you can handle her and won’t run away at the first chance.”

“Well, sir, your daughter’s not going anywhere because I’m not letting her go,” Vernon boasted.

Vernon’s confident remark earned a few chuckles around the table, and even your dad smiled, seemingly impressed by his boldness. But soon, the conversation drifted toward Vernon’s work, a natural topic considering your parents’ curiosity about the man you’d brought home.

“So, Vernon,” your dad began, taking a sip of his drink. “I heard you’re running your own company. How’s that going?”

“It’s been great so far, sir. A lot of hard work, but we’re starting to see some real growth. I’ve got a solid team behind me, and we’ve been lucky to land a few big clients this year,” Vernon explained humbly, though you could hear the pride in his voice. It made you smile, knowing how hard he’d worked to get to this point.

“That’s fantastic,” your mom chimed in, her eyes gleaming with admiration. “Running your own business at such a young age—that’s no small feat.”

“Yeah, he’s been doing great,” you added, glancing at Vernon with pride. “He’s always working late nights, but I keep trying to remind him to take breaks.”

Your dad grunted in approval, nodding as he cut into his steak. “That’s the kind of dedication that pays off. Not a lot of young people can say they’re doing something they’re truly passionate about.”

And then, without missing a beat, he continued, “At least one of you is doing something they actually like.”

You froze, your smile faltering slightly as the comment landed a little too close to home. Your mother shot your dad a sharp look, her eyebrows raised in disapproval.

“Honey,” she scolded, her voice tinged with warning. “That was a bit uncalled for.”

Your dad blinked, genuinely clueless, his expression one of mild confusion. “What? I didn’t mean anything by it,” he said then a glint of recognition flashed in his eyes when he saw your face. “I just meant... you know... Vernon’s following his passion, that’s all.”

You forced a laugh, though it came out more strained than you intended. “It’s fine, Mom,” you said quickly, hoping to brush past the comment. But deep down, his words had struck a chord. You kept your emotions at bay, not wanting to spoil the night.

Vernon must’ve sensed something because his hand slipped under the table to give yours a comforting squeeze. You squeezed back, grateful for his silent support, even though you didn’t meet his eyes. You didn’t want him to see the flicker of doubt creeping in.

The conversation shifted again, your mom steering it back to safer topics—family trips, funny memories, anything that didn’t revolve around work. But even as laughter filled the room once more, the words lingered in your mind like a quiet echo, reminding you of the dreams you’d put on hold.

Another year passed, filled with love, laughter, and the small routines that had become the foundation of your relationship with Vernon. You marveled at how easy it was to slip into life with him—lazy Sunday mornings spent in bed, quiet dinners after long workdays, and spontaneous weekend getaways that kept the spark alive. He was always there, steady and present, his love for you unwavering.

But as Vernon’s star continued to rise, something inside you began to shift. You watched him become more confident, more assured in his path, while you remained exactly where you had started: sitting in your cubicle, answering phone calls, and managing hotel reservations.

You were proud of him, of course. His dedication and hard work were paying off, and you loved seeing him thrive in an industry he was passionate about. But every time you heard about his achievements, a small part of you felt left behind. While he soared, you stayed grounded, rooted in a job that had long since lost its appeal.

You told yourself that it didn’t matter, that you were happy supporting Vernon and building a life together. But as the months went by, the excitement you once felt about your own future dimmed. Conversations at dinner turned into Vernon sharing news of his latest deals or the new office space his company had acquired, while you had little to contribute beyond the mundane details of your day. He never made you feel small—quite the opposite, actually. He always asked how your day went, listened intently, and reassured you that your time would come. But his words didn’t reach the parts of you that had begun to wonder if it ever would.

You started to notice things about yourself that you hadn’t before. The way your excitement for work had faded, the way your once confident posture slumped slightly as you sat at your desk. You’d catch glimpses of yourself in the mirror at the end of the day, your work uniform feeling more like a costume than a true reflection of who you were or who you wanted to be. It wasn’t jealousy—Vernon’s success was well-deserved. It was more a growing uncertainty about your own place in the world, a feeling that maybe you weren’t doing enough, weren’t being enough.

The nights when Vernon stayed late at the office became more frequent, and while you told yourself you understood, it left more time for your thoughts to spiral. You’d curl up on the couch, watching TV alone, wondering when you had started feeling so distant from the person you used to be. The person who had dreams of her own, who had once imagined writing stories that people would read, maybe even resonate with.

And though Vernon never missed an opportunity to remind you how much he loved you, you couldn’t help but feel a growing sense of inadequacy. Like somehow, you were falling short of the life you were supposed to be living—that somehow, you weren’t good enough for Vernon anymore.

But you pushed those thoughts away, burying them under your love for Vernon and the belief that as long as you had each other, it would all work out. Still, the doubt lingered as the year came and went.

“Good morning, love,” Vernon whispered in your ear, the soft press of his lips against your temple stirring you from sleep. You blinked your eyes open, greeted by the sight of his tender gaze and his charming smile. “Happy anniversary.”

You smiled back, leaning into his embrace, soaking in the warmth he effortlessly offered. Vernon wrapped his arms around you tighter, placing a kiss on your forehead. You looked up at him, noticing how at ease he seemed, his head propped on one hand while his fingers lazily played with the ends of your hair.

“Happy anniversary,” you murmured softly as you cupped his cheek. He leaned down to kiss you, his lips lingering on yours.

It didn’t take long for the soft kiss to deepen, sending a surge of warmth through your body and a wave of emotions in your heart. Vernon’s hand moved from hair to you arms, featherlight as he traced the path slowly, deliberately, like he was memorizing the feeling of you.

Your hand slipped into his hair, tugging softly, pulling him closer as if you weren’t already skin to skin. When his hand reached your ass, he gave a good squeeze that set off goosebumps all over your body. He then pulled away for a second, eyes searching yours as if asking a silent question, one that you’d already answered the moment you returned his kiss.

Your kisses grew deeper, breaths becoming shorter, bodies pressing closer. You could feel the heat of his skin beneath your palms and the steady beating of his heart. There was no rush, you both took your sweet time, agreeing on an unspoken understanding that you had all the time in the world.

He kissed your neck when you threw your head back, and you let him trail his lips down to your collarbone while his hand tugged the straps of your nightgown down. Soon, you were naked under him and you watched his eyes widen slightly at the sight of your breasts, smiling as you reached for his neck and pulled him down. Vernon let you guide his mouth to one of your nipples, and the moan that escaped your lips was ecstatic once his teeth grazed the sensitive bud.

He worked his way around your body, squeezing, pinching, sucking—all that while you held on to him, bucking your hips forward to feel any friction in your aching sex. Vernon slotted his knee between your legs and you humped on it desperately.

Your patience was running thin while Vernon was hyper-fixating on your supple skin, kissing and nipping and leaving bruises at his wake. You reached for the waistband of his sweatpants, pushing your hand inside and grabbing his manhood. Vernon jerked back slightly, but you didn’t let go. You thumbed the head of his dick, spreading the precum in a circling motion.

“Nonie, I want this,” you whispered, deliberately using the nickname that never failed to get you anything you wanted from him.

He pulled back for a moment, eyes dark with desire but softened by his affection for you. His thumb brushed over your lower lip, a playful smirk playing on his lips. “Are you sure?” His voice was low, the question barely a whisper.

“Are you kidding me right now?” you retorted, rolling your eyes but you were grinning from ear to ear.

“Just say it,” he sang, kissing the tip of your nose.

“Yes. I’m very sure,” you replied, voice laced with mock-sarcasm, but that was enough for Vernon.

He kept his eyes on yours, not breaking eye contact as he cupped your pussy and pressed on it. Your breath hitched, making him smile before slipping his hand into your underwear. For a moment, he played with the slick that had gathered there, spreading it and using it to lubricate his fingers as he rubbed your clit.

Your fingers gripped the fabric of his shirt, a desperate attempt to hold onto something solid as your body began to sink into his touch. The delight was short-lived because Vernon’s hand suddenly left your pussy. In swift motions, Vernon sat up and stripped himself out of his clothes before positioning himself between your legs.

The next few minutes was a blur of lewd moans blending with the sounds of sucking and licking as Vernon ravaged your sex with his mouth. He went on and on, relentless even as your voice became hoarse and small tears trickled on the side of your face. And then with a strong grip at his hair, you focused on the pleasurable motions of his tongue and fingers, letting it drive you to the edge before a wave of orgasm crashed through you.

Your grip at his hair loosened, and your legs fell limp as you stared at the ceiling, trying to make sense of the high that took over you just now. Vernon appeared, hovering over you with an air of pride about him. You smiled a grateful smile, showing him how satisfied you were.

But then the sudden feeling of your cunt being filled to the bottom made you gasp, mouth gaping open as your back arched in response. Vernon lowered himself to kiss your cheek, cupping your face gently as he shushed you.

“You asked for it, remember?” he said softly, but the mischief in his voice was unmistakable.

In your titillating daze, Vernon moved and found his pace with practiced ease. Every nerve in your body seemed to come alive, making you lose your mind as every thrust gave you a taste of heaven on Earth.

The room was filled the sounds of your whimpers, his guttural groans, and flesh slamming against flesh. The world outside the bed blurred into irrelevance. Every touch felt amplified—each caress, each whispered breath pulled you deeper into one another. Your fingers tightened around his shoulders, your body responding instinctively to the rising intensity.

“Nonie,” you called in a hushed, breathless gasp as his touch sent waves of sensation rippling through you. Your mind was a haze, lost somewhere between desire and release.

The pressure was building inside you, slow at first, then surging all at once. The world seemed to still for a second—then everything came crashing down as another orgasm came washing over you in waves, leaving you breathless and spent.

He followed you soon after, your bodies perfectly in sync, his soft groan was the only sound between you as he rammed into you relentlessly. One final thrust had him stuttering curses, then he stilled for a good minute before falling in your chest, face buried in your neck.

For a long while, neither of you moved, your bodies still locked together, the aftershocks of your release pulsing through you. Slowly, your breathing returned to normal, the frantic energy replaced by an overwhelming sense of warmth and closeness

Vernon lifted his head to look at you. “I love you,” he uttered before kissing your lips.

The kiss was sweet, comforting even, but as he pulled away, a thought flickered through your mind—how perfect everything must look on the outside. Here you were, in the arms of a man who adored you, who made you feel cherished. And yet, beneath that perfect image, your heart was aching with uncertainty and self-doubt.

For a moment, you wondered if Vernon could see it—the quiet battle you fought within yourself, the creeping fear that you weren’t enough. But his eyes remained soft, full of love, oblivious to the storm forming under your calm exterior.

You gave him a small smile, pushing those thoughts aside again, and whispered, “I love you.” As long as you could hold onto that love, maybe everything else would eventually fall into place.

“I think self-doubt is the worst but most effective way to self-destruct,” you said, staring at the contents of your glass. The bottle next to it was half-empty, a quiet testament to how long you’d been sitting there.

“You know, when your own insecurities start eating away at you, and you just… let them? It gnaws at you until there’s nothing left. And when that happens, you don’t even realize—you become the monster, and you start eating away at everyone around you,” you continued, the words settling heavily in your chest.

You glanced at Seungcheol, and though he stared off into space, you could tell he was listening intently.

“People might say I should’ve communicated with Vernon—told him what was bothering me, how I was feeling, but…” You trailed off, shaking your head. “Pride is a god-awful thing too. It wouldn’t let me show my perfect boyfriend that I was flawed.”

Seungcheol took a sip from his glass, his silence offering a kind of understanding that didn’t need words. You sighed, running your fingers through your hair, feeling lighter but also somehow more burdened by the memories you had unearthed.

“Funny thing is, on the surface, everything seemed perfect,” you said, half-laughing. “We went to galas, work events, dinners. From the outside, we were that couple—successful, in love.”

Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, his expression inviting you to continue.

You exhaled slowly, the memory of one particular evening surfacing. “There was this gala we attended. I wore this gorgeous maroon dress, and Vernon… well, he looked like he belonged there—he was in his element. The room practically revolved around him.”

Your mind drifted back to that night. The flash of lights, the clink of champagne glasses, and the elegant murmur of conversation all seemed so distant now.

You were standing by the champagne table, watching Vernon talk to a couple of people animatedly. You quietly sipped your drink, letting your thoughts spiral into another wave of self-doubt and feeling of inadequacy.

“It pains me to admit this, but you look ravishing tonight,” Seungkwan prompted, appearing beside you with a deadpan expression.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes playfully. “You don’t look so bad yourself. Is that Prada?” You fake exclaimed, eyeing his suit.

Seungkwan smirked, looking away and brushing his nose smugly as he puffed his chest. “This old thing? Stop. It’s nothing.”

You chuckled and let Seungkwan ruffle his feathers for a bit. Then he looked at you, really look at you. “Is everything okay?”

“Of course. Why’d you ask?” you questioned and it came out a little defensive.

“Maybe it’s just me, but your energy seemed off lately.”

Nervousness crept to your chest. “Off how? What do you mean?”

“I have no idea, but I can feel it. I have a good sense when it comes to these things.”

You couldn’t help feeling warm. Despite your cat and dog dynamics, you always knew Seungkwan cared about you. “I’m fine, Boo. It’s probably just the evening. I’m kinda tired.”

“If you’re tired, you should stop drinking,” Seungkwan said, taking the glass from your hand and setting it down. “Should I tell Vernon you’re ready to leave?”

“Thanks, but I’m fine. I’m not in a rush. Go have fun.”

“Okay,” he nodded as he started walking away. “No more champagne for you, alright?”

You sighed and waved your hand at him dismissively. At that moment, you spotted Vernon approaching you with a lady.

“Love, come meet Ms. Jean. She’s an editor for S Magazine,” Vernon introduced with a warm smile, gently placing his hand on your back. You turned to meet the woman standing beside him—a poised figure in a sleek black dress, her short bob neatly framing her face. She extended her hand toward you with a professional smile.

“It’s lovely to meet you,” she said, her voice smooth but authoritative.

You shook her hand, trying to steady your nerves. “Nice to meet you too.”

“Vernon’s been telling me a lot about you,” Ms. Jean continued, her eyes sharp but not unkind. “He mentioned you studied Communications. Have you always worked in hospitality?”

There it was. The subtle jab you always dreaded, though you knew she hadn’t meant it that way. You smiled, your response ready. “Yes, I work in hospitality right now, but I’m on the lookout for writing opportunities.”

Her eyebrows arched with mild interest. “Really? What kind of writing?”

You felt your heart race slightly, unsure if this was your moment to impress or if you were just another face in the crowd for her. “Mostly feature articles and creative pieces. I used to write short stories and some features for our school paper back in college.”

Ms. Jean nodded thoughtfully, taking a sip from her champagne flute. “Interesting. S Magazine has been expanding its lifestyle section recently. We’ve been looking for fresh voices, especially those with a knack for storytelling.”

Your breath hitched at the mention. The opportunity sounded almost surreal, but you tried not to get ahead of yourself. “That sounds incredible. I’d love to know more about what kind of pieces you’re looking for.”

She smiled, her expression professional yet a little distant, as though gauging your sincerity. “We’re always on the lookout for writers who can capture personal experiences in a way that resonates with a wide audience—something authentic yet relatable.”

Your mind buzzed with ideas, but doubt crept in alongside the excitement. Could you really fit the mold? Did you still have what it took?

“Tell you what,” Ms. Jean said, pulling out her card from a sleek case. “Send me a few samples of your writing. Let’s see where that takes us.”

Vernon looked at you proudly, beaming as if he could already see your success unfolding. You smiled back, though a small part of you wondered if you were ready for this—if you could really stand alongside people like Ms. Jean, in a career you once dreamed of but left behind.

“Thank you, Ms. Jean. I’ll definitely send some over,” you promised, carefully tucking the card into your purse.

The conversation shifted back to lighter topics, but your mind was elsewhere. As Vernon continued to chat away, you found yourself thinking of the stories you’d abandoned, the dreams you’d once nurtured. Maybe this was the sign you had been waiting for?

But even as that hope flickered, so did the insecurity, whispering in your ear: What if you’re not good enough for it?

“Shall we?” Vernon prompted, making you glance at him. The people he was talking to had left and you didn’t even notice.

“What?”

“Shall we go now? It’s getting a little boring in here.”

You smiled, tilting your head to the side at the familiar scene before you. “Are you using me as an excuse to escape again?”

“No, not this time,” he grinned, taking your hand and then kissing your knuckles. “There’s something I wanna show you.”

You laughed softly as Vernon led you out of the gala, his hand firmly gripping yours. The cool night air greeted you, and you welcomed the fresh breeze on your skin, letting it sweep away some of the tension that had settled inside you.

“Where are we going?” you asked, curiosity rising as you walked down the quiet street.

He flashed you a mischievous smile, the kind that always made your heart flutter. “You’ll see.”

You two walked for a few blocks, hand in hand, until you reached a small, familiar place. Your steps faltered as the brightly lit sign of the small Mexican restaurant came into view—the same one from your very first Friday night date. A wave of nostalgia hit you.

“Vernon…” you started, your voice trailing off as you turned to him. He gave you a knowing look.

“I figured it’d be nice to take you back here,” he said, opening the door and gesturing for you to step inside.

The restaurant was cozy, just as it had been two years ago. The dim lighting, the quiet atmosphere, and the scent of fresh tortillas brought back memories of that night—the excitement of getting to know him, the lighthearted conversation, and the comfort you felt by his side. You smiled at the memory, but it was tinged with an unexpected heaviness now.

You were the only ones there and Vernon led you to a corner table, the same one you’d sat at on that date. It felt surreal, like you were being transported back in time. After placing your orders, he reached across the table, his fingers brushing against yours.

“Remember that night? You canceled the hotel restaurant and brought me here,” Vernon said with a chuckle, his eyes softening as he gazed at you. “I was a little nervous back then. I wanted to impress you so bad.”

“You didn’t have to try too hard,” you smiled, your heart warming at the memory. “You already won me over the moment I first saw those eyes.”

He laughed, and for a moment, the tension in your chest eased. But as the conversation went on, you noticed that Vernon seemed different tonight—his eyes held a deeper intensity, like he had something more on his mind.

After finishing the meal, Vernon took a deep breath, his hand gently squeezing yours. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to say for a while,” he began, his eyes locking with yours in a way that made your heart skip.

You blinked, your heart suddenly pounding, unsure of what was coming. Before you could fully grasp the moment, Vernon stood up and moved to your side, dropping down on one knee.

Your hand flew over your mouth, gasping softly as the world around you came to a halt.

“From the moment we met, I knew you were gonna be very special to me,” he began, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “You’ve been my best friend, my biggest supporter, and the love of my life. I can’t imagine a future without you, and I don’t want to. So…”

With a swift motion, he pulled out a small velvet box, opening it to reveal a delicate ring that shimmered in the warm light. “Will you marry me?”

The restaurant faded into the background. All you could hear was the sound of your heartbeat in your ears. Your mind raced as his words sank in. Marriage. The thought had crossed your mind before, but not like this—not now. Not when you were in the midst of so much uncertainty about your own life, your own future. You felt your chest tighten as doubt crept in, louder than ever.

Vernon was everything you could have ever wanted, but the timing felt wrong. Then again, he had never been good with timing.

It wasn’t that you didn’t love him—you did, with every fiber of your being—but your heart was torn. Your career felt stagnant, your sense of self was wavering, and suddenly, the idea of committing to something as important as marriage felt overwhelming.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at him, seeing the love and hope in his gaze. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to speak past the lump in your throat. “Vernon…” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I love you, but I… I can’t. Not right now.”

His face faltered, the flicker of hurt evident in his eyes. He quickly stood, pulling you into his arms as tears slipped down your cheeks. You buried your face in his chest, your sobs muffled against the fabric of his suit.

“I’m not ready,” you choked out, your voice barely audible between sobs. “I want to marry you, I do… but I’m not in a place where I can think about that yet. There’s so much going on in my head and I don’t want to bring that into our marriage.”

Vernon’s arms tightened around you, his hand softly stroking your back. His voice was gentle as he whispered, “It’s okay. It’s alright, love.” But the heavy sigh he let out betrayed his disappointment, a subtle reminder of how much he had hoped for a different answer.

You pulled away slightly, your tear-streaked face tilted up to him. “I love you. I swear, I love you so much. I just… I need more time,” you pleaded, your heart aching at the sight of his eyes dimming with understanding.

“I know,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I understand. We’ll figure it out together.”

And yet, in the stillness that followed, your rejection lingered between you like a buzz in your ears—one that neither of you could fully shake.

You gulped down your drink, tilting your head back to finish every drop. As you reached for the bottle, Seungcheol pulled it away.

“We’re not even in the intense part yet, and you’re already cutting me off?” you teased.

Seungcheol sighed, unimpressed. “You’re about to finish the whole bottle.”

Giving up, you sighed, letting the tipsy haze settle. “You know what really happened to me at the time? I was in a phase where I had no idea what I was doing. I had a Communications degree with nothing to show for it in my resume.”

Shaking your head, you added. “How did I end up as a reservation agent in a fancy hotel anyway? I forgot, but I do remember working my ass off because the pay was good. And two years passed in a job I didn’t even like. Meanwhile, Vernon’s company was rapidly growing, his success was right around the corner, if not already achieved. He’d done so much in the same amount of time.”

“I was proud of him, but I was also jealous... and so insecure. I felt like I wasn’t enough for him, that he deserved someone on his level—and that wasn’t me.”

Seungcheol shifted in his seat. “Did you ever think that maybe what you did didn’t matter to him? That you were enough just as you were?”

You let out a humorless chuckle. “That’s funny, because that’s exactly what he said.”

Vernon said you’d figure it out together, but from that moment on, cracks started appearing in your seemingly perfect relationship. Vernon’s busy schedule, once something you admired, now felt like a gulf widening between you. Every time he stayed late at the office, every time he missed dinner plans, you couldn’t shake the gnawing thought that it wasn’t just work keeping him away. He would come home tired, still smiling, still full of affection—but you couldn’t feel it the same way anymore.

“You’re not even listening,” you snapped one evening after he zoned out during an argument about a towel he left in the bathroom.

“I’m sorry, love,” he said, rubbing his temples. “It’s been a long day. Can we talk about this later?”

But later never came. Each small incident piled on top of the last, and in your mind, it all added up to one conclusion: Vernon was pulling away because you’d rejected his proposal.

Then more cracks began to form, invisible at first but slowly spreading like cracks in a frozen lake. Everything he did seemed to tick you off and while you tried to keep your irritation at bay, sometimes you would just lash out without reaizing it.

One morning, as you both prepared for the day, you noticed Vernon had put your favorite mug in the dishwasher instead of the drying rack.

“Why did you put it in there? It was already clean,” you asked, unable to keep the annoyance from your voice.

Vernon turned, surprise flickering across his features. “I thought it was dirty. I didn’t want it to get mixed up with the clean dishes.”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s not that hard to tell the difference. I can’t believe you would even think that.”

His brows furrowed in confusion. “I’m sorry. I’ll make sure to leave it out next time.”

You didn’t respond. Instead, you muttered under your breath as you pulled the mug from the dishwasher. It was such a small thing, yet it felt like a big deal in the moment, like a representation of everything that was building inside you.

As the week progressed, the little annoyances multiplied. Vernon left his shoes by the door instead of putting them away, and you found yourself snapping at him, “How hard is it to just put them in the closet? It’s not like you don’t have a place for them.”

Vernon shrugged, his voice steady, “I’m sorry, I’ll get to it. I just forget sometimes.” He always took the blame, even when it felt disproportionate.

Then there was the time you both decided to make dinner together. The moment felt lighter at first, the two of you dancing around each other in the kitchen, laughter spilling out between you. But when Vernon tried to help chop the vegetables, you couldn’t help but comment, “Do you have to slice them that thick? They’re going to take forever to cook.”

His smile faltered for a brief second before he responded, “I thought thicker pieces would have more flavor. I’ll do it your way.”

“Just move. I’ll do it,” you said, frustration bubbling up again as you took the knife from his hands. “It’s just food. Why does it matter so much?” you muttered, more to yourself than to Vernon.

Vernon stepped back, hands raised in mock surrender. “I just thought we were cooking together, but okay.”

You glanced at him, guilt creeping in, but instead of apologizing, you huffed and focused on chopping, feeling ridiculous for picking a fight over something so trivial.

As you settled into bed that night, Vernon’s hand slipped under your nightgown caressing your thigh firmly. You scooted away from him, but he reached for you again. Annoyed, you sat up and glared at him. “Can’t you take a hint?”

His voice softened. “Right, sorry. Let’s just sleep.”

You lay back down, turning your back on him. He moved closer, hugging you from behind and kissing your cheek. You let him, sighing as you convinced yourself to calm down and just bask in the warmth you were familiar with.

“What’s wrong, love?” he asked softly, concern evident in his voice.

“Nothing!” you snapped, then added, “Just go to sleep.”

You hated that you were pushing him away, but the insecurity inside you felt like it was consuming everything. With each argument, the little cracks widened, and you felt more lost than ever.

Days turned into a blur of tiny disputes that left you feeling drained, and yet Vernon remained unfazed, always returning to his gentle, loving demeanor. He brought you flowers one evening, a bouquet of sunflowers that lit up the room.

“Just because,” he said, grinning. “I thought it’d make you smile.”

“Why? Do I look miserable?” you shot back, though your tone was sharper than you intended.

“Of course not,” he replied, taken aback. “I just wanted to brighten your day.”

You felt awful immediately, but instead of apologizing, you buried your guilt under a facade of anger.

“Do you want to talk about your day?” Vernon asked one evening as you sat on the couch, scrolling through your phone while he pulled off his tie.

“Not really,” you replied curtly, your eyes glued to the screen.

His brow furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing usually means something,” he pressed, sitting next to you and wrapping his arms around your waist. “You know you can talk to me, right?”

You huffed, frustration bubbling over. “Yes. I know. I’m fine. Can we leave it at that?”

He blinked, taken aback. “Love, I’m here for you, alright? Can we talk about this? Don’t shut me out.”

“There is nothing to talk about, Vernon. Why are you making a big deal out of this?” you said, but the rise of your voice was contradicting your statement.

“What do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know, maybe just actually listen when I say I’m fine?” you shot back, standing up and moving away from him. “Instead of thinking I need saving all the time.”

Vernon sighed, running a hand through his hair, a gesture of exasperation you recognized all too well. “I’m not trying to save you. I just want to understand you..”

You felt a rush of guilt but pushed it away. “Well, you’re not doing a great job of it.”

The evening passed in strained silence. You both tried to move on, but the weight of the argument lingered, coloring everything that followed.

Then came the email. You were sitting at your desk when the notification popped up on your phone. It was from S Magazine, inviting you for an interview based on your writing samples. At first, you stared in disbelief. You hadn’t sent them anything recently.

Later that evening, you confronted Vernon. “Did you submit my work to S Magazine?” you demanded, eyes narrowed as you watched his reaction.

He looked taken aback, his face contorting in confusion. “I did. I thought—”

“Why would you do that?” you cut him off, your voice rising before you even realized it. “You thought it was okay to make that decision for me? You had no right to do that without telling me!”

“I was just trying to help,” Vernon said, standing up from the couch, his brows furrowing in concern. “They told me you hadn’t reached out yet, and it’s such a great opportunity. I figured—”

“You figured what, Vernon?” you interjected again, frustration boiling over. “That I wasn’t good enough on my own? That I needed your help because I’m failing in my career while you’re off succeeding at everything?”

Vernon looked stunned, but his tone remained calm. “Whoa, hold on—” He walked over to you, gently placing his hands on your arms. “You’re upset, love. I can see that. Let’s calm down for a second, talk about this level-headedly.”

You swatted his hands away, your pulse racing. “Am I not good enough for you, Vernon? Is that what this is about?”

“What? No! Why would you even say that?” Vernon’s voice stayed steady, but the confusion was clear in his eyes. “I love you, just the way you are. I’m not trying to undermine you. I only wanted to support you.”

“Support me? Is that what this is? Why does it feel more like you’re trying to fix me?” you yelled, your heart racing. “What do you want from me, Vernon? To be some perfect version of myself so I can keep up with your success?”

He took a step back, his face contorting with hurt and disbelief. “I never said that. Love, where this is coming from?”

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you blinked them away. “It’s coming from me, Vernon. It’s how I feel every time you do something like this. Like you’re trying to make me better because the version of me that exists right now isn’t enough for you.”

His expression softened, but instead of comfort, it only fueled your frustration. “That’s not true,” he said quietly. “I love you—exactly as you are. I just wanted to give you a push toward something you’re passionate about, something I know you care about.”

“I never asked for your help,” you spat, throwing your hands in the air.

Vernon’s patience finally wore thin. “Why are you looking at this so negatively? We’re in this together. I am not against you.”

“You don’t understand!” you yelled, your voice shaking as you finally voiced what had been festering inside you for months. “I feel inadequate, Vernon. I feel like I’m stuck in one place while everything around me is moving forward. Every time you step in like this, it just reinforces that feeling. I’m fucking sick of it!”

His eyes widened, and he took another step back, stunned by your outburst. “That’s not fair,” he said, voice quieter now, as though the weight of your words had finally hit him. “I am so sorry if I made you feel like that, but I would never do it on purpose. I love you. I’m just trying to help you.”

You turned away, wiping your eyes quickly. “That’s enough. I don’t want to hear it anymore.”

There was a long silence before Vernon spoke again, his voice barely above a whisper. “I love you,” he said, calling your name softly, as if it were a plea.

You heard him, clear as day, but his words felt distant—out of reach, like they didn’t belong to you anymore. Each fight, every misunderstanding, had been a drop in a bucket that now overflowed. The bitterness you felt was like a slow poison, creeping into every corner of your mind.

Vernon sighed heavily, and you heard him walking toward the bedroom, leaving you alone with your spiraling thoughts. The email notification from S Magazine was still open on your phone, but instead of excitement, all you felt was a hollow sense of dread. It should’ve been a dream come true, but now it only felt like a reminder of how lost you were, and how distant you were becoming from the person who loved you most.

A few weeks had passed since the S Magazine argument, but things between you and Vernon hadn’t improved. Every little thing seemed to set off another argument. Tonight, it started with something small—Vernon suggesting you take a break from work and relax. It was his way of showing care, but to you, it felt like a subtle dig at your career.

“I just think you deserve some time to recharge,” he said gently.

You crossed your arms, feeling the frustration bubble up again. “You mean because I’m not working as hard as you are?”

Vernon sighed. “Love, you know that’s not what I said.”

“But it’s what you think, right? I can’t keep up with you.”

His face softened as he took a step closer. “I never said that. You’re amazing, and I wish you could see yourself the way I do.”

“How am I supposed to see myself that way when I’m always falling short?”

A heavy silence filled the room before Vernon spoke again, quieter this time. “I don’t know what else to do. I’ve given you space, I’ve tried to support your dreams, and I’ve never stopped loving you. But I can’t keep walking on eggshells, worrying that everything I say is gonna hurt you.”

“Oh? So you can’t do this anymore? Is that it? Do you want me gone, then?”

“No,” you groaned helplessly, rubbing his hands on his face out of frustration. He pulled you into a tight hug, one that made you want to just melt in his arms. “I love you so much. Please. I want to fix this.”

Your tears welled up, heart aching at how much love was in his voice. But that didn’t change the knot of doubt tangled inside you. “I don’t know what I need anymore,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “But I think this isn’t it.”

Vernon froze for a second before pulling away from the hug and looking at you with widened eyes. “No... no, love, don’t say that.” His voice cracked, raw with emotion. “Please, don’t do this. We can figure it out. We always do.”

Your heart clenched at his words, but the doubt that had consumed you wouldn’t let go. You took his hands off your shoulder. “I’m hurting, Vernon. And I’m hurting you. I don’t know how to stop it. I... I need to let you go.”

“No,” he whispered, cupping your cheeks and pressing his forehead against yours. “You don’t mean that. You can’t. Please... don’t leave me.”

Your tears spilled over, and you looked away, unable to meet his gaze. “I can’t keep doing this. I am so lost and I can’t drag you down with me.”

“Love, please,” he begged, his voice cracking now as desperation took over. “We can work through this. I’ll do anything. Tell me what to do, just... don’t give up on us.”

You could feel the sincerity of his love but the storm inside you was too strong. You shook your head, your tears flowing freely now. “I’m so sorry,” you whispered.

Vernon’s face crumpled, and he dropped to his knees in front of you, holding your hands as if holding on would make you stay. “Please,” he choked out, his voice hoarse. “Please don’t leave me. I need you. I love you.”

His words broke you, shattered whatever strength you had left, but you knew it wasn’t enough. You gently pulled your hands away, your heart breaking as you did. “I love you too, Vernon. But I have to go.”

He stayed on the floor, his hands dropping to his sides, eyes red and pleading as he watched you walk away, unable to stop the finality in your stride.

“And then, we broke up,” you said to Seungcheol, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. “I moved out and just went on with my life. I cut off all forms of communication with him. It was like... I completely erased him.”

“Was it easy?”

“Fuck no. It was hard. So damn hard.” You took a deep breath before continuing. “After we broke up, I just threw myself into work. It didn’t matter how repetitive it was—I needed the distraction. I didn’t pursue S Magazine either. Just the thought of it reminded me of Vernon… of everything we fought about. So, out of sight, out of mind, right?”

Seungcheol watched you quietly, waiting for you to go on.

“Six months passed. I thought I was fine, you know? That I’d moved on.” You swallowed hard, the memory still fresh. “Then, one day, I heard that Vernon was seen on a date with someone. That’s when it hit me. He really was gone.”

Seungcheol’s brows furrowed. “How did that feel?”

You tried to smile, but it felt hollow. “Like everything came crashing down all over again.”

It was Mina who told you. She said Paul had mentioned seeing Vernon out on a date. It occurred to you that you didn’t tell anyone about the breakup—not your parents, not even Mina who had set you up.

For the last six months, you’d convinced yourself that you were fine—that the breakup didn’t devastate you. And you really believed it was the truth, but when someone finally asked about it, you realized just how painful it was. Mina was gentle, reassuring, and she comforted you. But she was also honest with you when she told you it wasn’t fair for Vernon.

“Your personal issues had nothing to do with him,” Mina said, sitting next to you on the edge of your bed. “Yes, it was awful, and I understand why you were so conflicted and stressed out, but none of it was Vernon’s fault.”

“I know, okay? But there was a lot of things I couldn’t say to him. We had a lot of stuff we couldn’t talk about. Now, there’s nothing I can do about it. It’s over. We’re done,” you had replied, frustration and defeat twisting inside you.

Mina looked at you with sympathy, but there was also that firmness in her words. “Exactly. So, let it go. There’s no point dwelling on it now that he seemed to be moving on with his life.”

You had nodded then, but deep down, you weren’t ready to hear it. You weren’t ready to face the fact that Vernon wasn’t coming back, or that he was moving on with someone new.

You pretended to be fine. “He’s allowed to date whoever he likes,” you told yourself, repeating the words over and over like a mantra. But at night, when the world went quiet and your thoughts grew louder, your resolve crumbled. You’d find yourself reaching for your phone, fingers instinctively pulling up Vernon’s profile, then Lee Suji’s. It started innocently enough—a quick check just to see how they were doing—but it quickly turned into a habit. Every night, without fail, you’d scroll through their posts, their stories, their pictures.

It was like they were living the life you’d once imagined for yourself. While you were stuck in your repetitive days—getting up, going to work, coming home—it felt like they were living in a different world. They went to fancy dinners, took weekend trips, and posted photos that made their life look like something out of a dream. We used to do that, you thought bitterly, remembering how you would whisk Vernon away to spontaneous trips to give him a break.

Even the small, intimate details made you bitter—the way he looked at her in pictures, his arm casually draped over her shoulders. He used to do that with me, you thought, jealousy gnawing at you. You pictured them curled up on the couch watching movies, the same way you two had on lazy Sunday mornings. Even her captions reminded you of things he’d say to you, the inside jokes you thought were yours alone.

At first, it was just small pangs of longing—a memory of his laugh, the way he’d hold your hand, the sound of his voice calling your name. But those pangs grew sharper, and soon, they twisted into something more painful, more unbearable. They were happy. You could see it in the way they smiled in every picture, the way they stood so close together. Suji was everything you weren’t—successful, elegant, effortless. The kind of woman who could stand by Vernon’s side without feeling out of place.

And with every post, every photo, you sank deeper into the realization that Suji wasn’t just someone he was dating. She was someone he shared the life you used to live with the man you used to love—still love.

You descended further into sadness and regret, your mind constantly comparing yourself to the perfection that was Lee Suji. No matter how hard you tried to shake it off, the feeling lingered, sinking deeper into your chest. It was suffocating. Every night, as you lay down in bed, your thoughts would spiral, and all you could see was Suji’s perfect smile and the way Vernon looked at her—the way he used to look at you.

Some nights, when memories of how Vernon used to touch you started creeping in your mind, the jealousy surged so intensely it left a bitter taste in your mouth. You could practically feel the ghost of his fingertips brushing against your skin—the way he’d run his hand along your back, how his fingers worked you up expertly, or how his lips traced every curve of your body as if he’d memorized them all. Those moments were so intimate, so second-nature between the two of you, that you didn’t even think about them until now—now that they were gone.

You imagined him doing the same things with Suji. Did he hold her the way he used to hold you? Did he memorize her body, just like he did yours? Did he whisper the same sweet words in her ear, making her feel like she was the center of his world? The thought gnawed at you, eating away at the edges of your sanity. It wasn’t just that they were together—it was the idea that your place in his life had been filled, your role in his heart now occupied by someone else.

You tried to shake it off, telling yourself it didn’t matter. He’s allowed to move on. You’re the one who left. But the logic didn’t lessen the sting. The jealousy would flare up, sharp and sudden, whenever you pictured him lying next to her, their legs tangled under the covers the way yours once were. You could almost see it—their lazy mornings, their heated nights, and the gestures of love and affection. You used to be the one he reached for in the middle of the night, pulling you close as if you were the most important thing in his world.

And now, all of that belonged to someone else.

One day, you bumped into Seungkwan at the supermarket—an unexpected encounter that caught you off guard. After exchanging pleasantries, for some reason, you both ended up sitting at a cafe down the street. The clatter of cups and faint hum of conversation around filled the awkward silence between you.

Seungkwan stirred his coffee absentmindedly, his eyes narrowing slightly before he finally spoke. “Her name is Suji, and she’s a friend of mine.”

You blinked at him, not quite sure where this is going. “Oh... I see.”

He took a sip, eyeing you with frustration in his eyes. “I should’ve introduced them sooner if I’d known you’d dump Vernon anyway.”

Your heart skipped a beat, but you tried to shrug it off with a smirk. “Okay, Boo. I get it, you hate me. There’s no need to say it to my face.”

He set his cup down, the ceramic clinking against the saucer a little too sharply. His gaze didn’t waver, and there was no amusement in his eyes. “You see, that’s the problem with you. You jump to conclusions. You make these one-sided assumptions and cling to them like they’re fact. Right now, you’re assuming I hate you when I never did.”

The casual tone caught you off guard. You frowned. “But why—”

“You had your reasons,” Seungkwan cut you off, his voice firm but not unkind. “You had your own issues. I get that. What I hated wasn’t you. What I hated was what you did.”

You stared at him, the pit in your stomach growing heavier. “Boo...”

“I hated how you broke Vernon to pieces like it was the easiest thing in the world,” he said, his words blunt.

The sting of his words sliced deeper than you expected. You opened your mouth to defend yourself, but your voice comes out small, trembling. “You don’t get to say that to me. It wasn’t easy, and you have no idea what you’re talking about.”

His lips pressed into a thin line. “You’re right. I don’t know everything. I don’t know what it was like for you after the breakup. Maybe you were a mess, too, I don’t know. But I do know what a wreck Vernon was when you left him. Did it ever cross your mind how difficult it would be for him to deal with that?”

You stared down at your coffee, the steam swirling like the thoughts that had been haunting you for months. The truth was, you had thought about it—how much it must’ve hurt Vernon, how hard he was taking it. But you buried it, pushed it away because it was easier than facing how deeply you’d broken him.

“He didn’t deserve it,” Seungkwan continued, his voice softer now, more resigned. “Not when all he ever did was love you, support you, and try to make things better for you. You let your bruised ego push him away—someone who would’ve given anything just to see you happy.”

The words landed heavily, and you felt a lump form in your throat. Deep down, you knew he was right. You’d convinced yourself that walking away was the only option, that you couldn’t keep up with Vernon’s success, that you were dragging him down. But Seungkwan’s words twisted the knife—Vernon didn’t deserve it.

“I thought...” You swallowed hard, struggling to find your voice. “I thought I was doing the right thing. For both of us.”

Seungkwan scoffed, shaking his head. “Exactly. You alone made that choice for both of you, and then left him to pick up the pieces.”

The conversation with Seungkwan lingered in your mind the next day, following you like a shadow as you walked to work. Vernon had consumed your thoughts all night, leaving you tossing and turning, unable to sleep. By the time you reached the office building, you were moving on autopilot, too lost in your head to notice the man exiting through the doors.

You bumped into him, your balance faltering on your high heels as you toppled backward. But before you hit the marble floor, strong arms caught you, steadying you.

“Careful there,” the man said, his voice light.

You glanced up, meeting his gaze. His easy smile widened into something more familiar as recognition flickered in his eyes.

“Well, look who it is.”

Your brows shot up. “Kim Mingyu?”

“Kim Mingyu?” Seungcheol questioned, his brow lifting in mild surprise.

You waved your hand dismissively. “I know. The plot thickens,” you huffed, reaching for the bottle that Seungcheol had tucked away from your reach.

“No,” he said sternly, swatting your hand away.

Running into Mingyu after all these years was unexpected, but surprisingly pleasant. He was as charming as ever, his smile lighting up when he saw you, and after a few minutes of small talk, he’d casually asked if he could take you out to dinner and catch up. You agreed—there was something comforting in reconnecting with an old friend, especially someone who’d been a significant part of your past.

Dinner with Mingyu turned out to be more nostalgic than you expected. Over shared plates of pasta and wine, you talked about your lives, reminiscing over the days when things were simpler but also more uncertain. Mingyu had changed since the last time you’d seen him. The sadness that used to cloud his eyes had lifted, and he seemed lighter—less burdened by the weight of the world.

“So, how are you?” you asked, leaning back in your chair, swirling the wine in your glass.

Mingyu grinned, almost sheepish. “I’m doing better now. So much better.” His voice softened as he continued, “I don’t… disappear randomly anymore. I guess I’m finally where I’m supposed to be. I’m happier. Took me a while, but here I am.”

“That’s great to hear,” you said, smiling. It was nice to see him thriving, a stark contrast to the depression he’d struggled with before.

He met your eyes, his expression was sincere. “I’m gonna be honest, it was the bears.”

You were confused for a second, but then your remembered. “Oh, you mean— No way?”

“Way. Here look.” He pulled his phone out and showed you a picture of bear figurines on a desk with his nameplate on it.

“Are you serious? You still have them?” you asked, genuinely surprised. Mingyu nodded proudly. “Wow. That’s… amazing.”

“The bears were just an excuse,” he admitted, his tone softening. “Truth is, I have you to thank. You sent them back with a kind note. You encouraged me to figure it out, even when I was too wrapped up in my own head. It made a difference.”

You shook your head, feeling a bit bashful. “That note was cheesy.”

He chuckled, the sound full of nostalgia. “Actually, yes, it is kinda cheesy now. But, back then, I was desperate for a helping hand, so... yeah, it meant a lot.”

“Well, you’re welcome. Although, I think it was all you.”

Mingyu smiled, leaning back in his chair. “Maybe. But sometimes, when you’re lost, you need someone to remind you that you’re capable of finding your own way. That’s what you did. But yeah, I guess you’re right. It was always up to me to make the changes.”

You smiled, pride and humility swelling in your chest. You reached for his hand, squeezing it gently. “I’m so proud of you.”

His eyes softened, and just as you began to withdraw your hand, Mingyu caught it, his thumb rubbing gently over your knuckles. “It’s really good to see you after all these years,” he said quietly, his gaze lingering on yours.

The dinner continued at the bar, where you talked some more over wine. You had forgotten how funny Mingyu could be, and now that you were rediscovering it, you couldn’t stop grinning and giggling at his anecdotes. He seemed equally amused by your stories, laughing heartily in a way that made you feel like no time had passed at all.

Before you knew it, you were in the elevator, lips crashing into each other with a kind of desperation. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest, while your fingers tangled in his hair, holding onto him for dear life. The soft ding of the elevator doors opening barely registered in your mind as Mingyu led you, still kissing, down the hallway to his suite.

Fumbling with the key card, Mingyu finally managed to open the door, and you stumbled inside together, your lips never parting. The room was dimly lit, and the city lights from outside twinkled beautifully. Mingyu guided you toward the bed, but you broke the kiss, breathless as you looked up at him, your heart racing.

“Is this what you came here for?” you teased, your fingers brushing against his cheek.

He smiled, a little out of breath himself. “I’m here for work, but, this is a welcome distraction.”

You giggled, leaning closer and biting his lower lip. Neither of you was gentle but you weren’t in a rush either. The way Mingyu touched you now was different from the rushed urgency in the elevator—this was tender, deliberate, and fervent all at the same time. Each kiss, each caress, felt like a reunion of sorts, as if you were both rediscovering each other after so much time apart.

You forgot how you managed to take your clothes off, but you knew you were already naked the second Mingyu’s lips found yours again—softer this time, and you melted into the sensation, the warmth of his body against yours was a welcome comfort. He paused, pulling back slightly to look at you, his eyes filled with desire.

“Is this okay?” he asked, his voice low and husky.

You smiled, trailing your fingertips from his nape to his chest that had grown more muscular over the years. “Yes, totally.”

And in the moment, you tossed away every weight pressing down on your chest, letting yourself get lost in the euphoria of Mingyu’s touch.

In the morning, you made your way out of Mingyu’s suite with a pit in your stomach. The walk of shame felt heavier than it should’ve. You scolded yourself for letting things go too far, for taking advantage of someone kind who was blissfully unaware of the mess inside your head.

“I’ve missed you,” he’d mumbled sometime in the night, while you were wrapped around his warm embrace. “I missed you when I left. I missed you all these years. I tried to reach out several times but I knew it would be shameless of me to waltz back into your life without first fixing my own.”

And then, in your silence, he had added, “I’m all fixed now, baby,” just before he drifted off to sleep.

Mingyu probably thought last night meant something, that maybe you could rekindle what you once lost, and start fresh. But that wasn’t the case. You knew deep down you were just lonely, craving the warmth of someone else’s touch to fill the void Vernon had left behind.

When you reached the hotel lobby, you wrapped your coat tighter around yourself, hoping to slip by unnoticed. But as you neared the front desk, you froze. Vernon was standing there, talking to Sally.

Your breath hitched in your throat. For a split second, you considered turning around, making a quick escape, but then Vernon’s eyes caught yours. His face lit up with a polite smile, the kind that he often gave his friends. Your heart sank seeing that, knowing you’d never get to see him smile genuinely at you again.

And just like that, the weight in your chest doubled.

“Vernon,” you greeted as you approached him, forcing your voice to sound steady. “What brings you here?”

He took in your appearance, and you felt a rush of self-consciousness wash over you. You were aware that you didn’t look ready for work, the remnants of last night still clinging to you. “I, uh…” he hesitated, his brow furrowing slightly. “I wanted to talk to you about something, but I didn’t know how to contact you, so I thought I’d drop by instead.”

“What is it?” you asked, trying to keep your tone light, even as your heart raced.

Vernon glanced around for a moment, as if searching for the right words. “Well, I need your new address so I can mail back your stuff that you left at our—well, my apartment.”

“Oh,” you blurted, not registering anything but the slip of his tongue that almost made him say ‘our apartment’. “Okay. Um…”

You stammered for a second, unsure how to proceed. “Actually, what if I just go pick them up myself? That way, I can make sure I don’t leave anything behind.”

Vernon hesitated for a second. “Sure. That would be more convenient.”

“Cool. When can I drop by?”

“When are you free?” he asked back.

You searched his face for any hint of what he was feeling, but his expression remained carefully neutral. You cleared your throat. “How about Friday evening after work? I should be free then.”

“Friday works,” he replied, nodding slowly.

You felt a knot tighten in your stomach at the thought of seeing the apartment again, the place where so many memories lingered like ghosts. “Okay, I will,” you said, trying to sound casual but failing to mask the underlying anxiety in your voice.

He glanced down, shuffling his feet slightly, and for a fleeting moment, you glimpsed the Vernon you once knew—the one who could fill a room with laughter, whose eyes sparkled with genuine warmth. “I hope it won’t be too weird,” he added quietly, breaking the silence again.

You wanted to reassure him, to say that it wouldn’t be weird at all, but the truth was that it would be strange, and painful too. “I’m sure it’ll be fine,” you replied instead, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

He just nodded and you both fell quiet again. You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, your mind filled with words you wanted to say but couldn’t. Not because you didn’t want to, but because there was no point saying them anymore. “I—uh, I should get going.” you prompted, not wanting to overstay your welcome but reluctant to leave him.

“Right,” he said, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary, as if he was searching for something in your eyes. “See you Friday, then.”

“Yeah, see you Friday,” you echoed, walking away.

The prospect of seeing Vernon again was both exhilarating and terrifying. But as you walked away, you reminded yourself that you were both on different paths now, and you should be moving forward instead of dwelling on what could’ve been.

Halfway through your shift, you stepped outside for lunch with your coworkers, the chatter around you was a welcome distraction from the morning’s events. As you returned to the lobby, your heart skipped a beat at the sight of Mingyu waiting for you. He greeted you with a broad smile, holding out a bouquet of vibrant flowers that seemed to brighten the entire space. You were flustered, and you became hyper-aware of the intrigued looks from your coworkers.

“You were gone when I woke up,” he said, his grin unwavering as you led him to a quiet corner of the lobby.

“Yeah, well. I have work,” you replied, motioning to the front desk. “Were you waiting for me?”

Mingyu nodded, still smiling. “Yes. I was wondering if you have time tonight.”

You felt a wave of guilt wash over you, and it clashed with the lingering happiness of the previous night. “Mingyu, I’m sorry. I don’t think we should do this. Last night was amazing, but I’m not really in the right headspace for any kind of commitment right now.”

His smile faltered for just a moment before he shrugged. “Oh, well. That’s a shame then.” You thought he’d be more disappointed but he seemed… indifferent? “I would have loved to try again, but it’s fine if you can’t.”

The sincerity in his voice tugged at your heart. “I’m sorry.”

“I know,” he said, his grin returning like a boomerang. “Does that mean you wouldn’t want to hang out with me again? Even if it’s just… casual?”

You hesitated, weighing the implications. It didn’t sound so bad. “I… would love to. Heh.”

“Great! So, are you free tonight? I’m going to this gala later and I’m looking for a date.”

Caught off guard by the suddenness of his invitation, you blinked, your mind racing. A gala? With Mingyu? You didn’t want to lead him on, but the thought of dressing up, laughing, and being swept away from reality for a few hours was tempting. “Okay? Yeah. Sure.”

Mingyu’s smile widened, infectious and genuine. “Perfect! I’ll pick you up at seven?”

You nodded. “Sounds good.”

That night, you stood in front of the mirror, your silvery satin dress shimmering under the light. It hugged your figure perfectly, something you hadn't paid much attention to in the past six months. As you adjusted a strand of hair, memories of those glamorous nights with Vernon surfaced uninvited—how he’d surprise you with a new dress and an invitation to a posh party, how he’d walk into the venues with his hand on your back, swelling with pride because you looked graceful next to him. And of course, there were those moments when you’d leave those parties early to grab pizza in some greasy diner, laughing in your tux and gown, ignoring the puzzled looks from other diners.

A smile tugged at your lips, recalling the memories that used to warm your heart but now left a bittersweet taste in your mouth.

Your phone buzzed on the nightstand, pulling you out of your thoughts. Mingyu had arrived. With one last glance in the mirror, you grabbed your things and hurried downstairs, finding him by his car. He greeted you with a wide smile, taking your hand and brushing his lips against your knuckles. It was a sweet gesture, and yet, it felt… foreign.

“You look stunning,” he beamed, holding the car door open for you.

As soon as you sat down and he closed the door, you felt a sudden pang in your chest—one that pained both your heart and your soul. The car was nice, but the unfamiliar interior and smell weighed heavily in your chest.

“Are you ready?” Mingyu asked, prompting your attention. You didn’t even notice him getting in, too absorbed in your thoughts.

“Yes,” you replied, forcing a smile that didn’t reach your eyes.

When you reached the venue, the soft murmur of voices and the clinking of champagne glasses surrounded you. Mingyu’s hand rested lightly on your back as he guided you through the sea of guests, his presence warm and reassuring. Yet, despite his charm and ease, your mind kept wandering to the memories of the parties you’d went to with Vernon.

Then, in a moment that seemed to pull you out of the haze, you saw him—Vernon, standing by one of the tall, draped windows, dressed in a sleek black suit. For a second, your breath caught in your throat. He looked just as you remembered, the same effortless grace, the quiet confidence. And…was that a flicker of jealousy in his eyes? You thought it was—his gaze lingering on you and Mingyu as you passed by.

Your heart raced as you tried to gauge his reaction, convinced he was feeling what you thought he felt. But just as quickly as the thought surfaced, Suji appeared beside him. She was stunning—tall, poised, with an air of elegance that made her impossible to miss. You haven’t met her before, but she looked like the kind of woman who had it all together, someone who seemed to float through life with ease. The way she stood next to Vernon with her hand lightly brushing his arm, sent a wave of nausea rolling through you.

Your chest tightened. Why did he have to pick someone who was so much better than you in many ways? Someone who knew exactly what she was passionate about and pursued it. Someone who exuded confidence effortlessly, not only in how she carried herself but in how sure she was in her career, her life, her choices.

You couldn’t stop the flood of comparisons. It was like Suji was standing on this pedestal that you could never quite reach, her brilliance making you feel smaller with every passing second. It was the worst. Vernon had moved on to someone who was everything you couldn’t be, everything you had once dreamed of being but had never managed to become.

Mingyu said something, trying to catch your attention, but his words blurred into the background as you watched Suji laugh at something Vernon said. The sound of her laughter—genuine, light, carefree—echoed in your mind like a mocking reminder of all the things you weren’t.

He’s happy, you realized, the thought hitting you harder than expected.

You turned away, clutching the stem of your champagne glass a little too tightly, forcing yourself to swallow the bitterness rising in your throat. But the smile you gave Mingyu, like everything else that night, didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Was it a bad idea?” Mingyu asked, cocking an eyebrow at you. “Coming here with me, I mean. Is he not supposed to see us together?”

You followed his gaze and saw that he was looking at Vernon. You shook your head. “No. It’s nothing like that.”

“Are you sure?” He held his jaw and moved it. “What if I get smacked? My jaw still hurts from getting punched by some dude two weeks ago.”

“Why would someone punch you?”

Mingyu grinned naughtily. “Let’s just say I’m a main event everywhere I go and I invite trouble from boyfriends who couldn’t stand seeing their girls fawn over me.”

You smirked, rolling your eyes though you found his cockiness funny. “Well, then you don’t have to worry about your jaw tonight. He has no reason to break it because…” you trailed off, sighing. “Just because.”

“Alright, I’ll take your word for it,” he chimed before excusing himself to talk to someone and leaving you alone for a moment. You glanced around, trying to distract yourself from the heaviness that had been following you all night.

That was when Vernon appeared by your side. “Hey,” he said, his voice casual.

“Hi,” you replied, forcing a smile. “Good to see you. What’s up?”

“I thought I should let you know,” he began, a little hesitant. “I’m selling our apartment.”

You blinked, taken aback by his statement. “Oh. Well, you didn’t have to tell me. It’s yours, you can sell it if you want,” you replied, steadying your voice to hide the fact that your heart was racing.

“I know, but you lived there too, so you should at least know it’s going to someone else now,” he said, flattening his lips together. “It’d be good to grab your things as soon as possible too.”

“Of course! Friday after work, right? We agreed.”

“Yes,” he said before both of your fell silent.

You wanted to say something, anything, to cut through the tension, but everything felt wrong. Then, Vernon added, “I should go.”

You just hummed in response, nodding as he walked away. Mingyu rejoined you then, tugging your elbow gently as he faced you with a mischievous smile.

“Would you care to fill me in on this… situation?” he asked teasingly.

You rolled your eyes but you couldn’t hide the self-deprecating smile on your lips. “It’s a situation, that’s all you have to know.”

Mingyu took the flute from your hand and swapped it with a new one from the busboy who happened to pass by. Before giving it to you, he lifted it and grinned. “How many glasses of champagne before you willingly tell me everything?”

You scoffed. “Even if you give me an entire bottle—” you swiped the glass from his hand. “I’m not gonna tell you.”

“Boohoo. So boring,” he sniggered.

Some time within the night, you’d find yourself in a deserted hallway with Mingyu, making out with your back against the wall while he towered over you. The champagne buzz had reached your head and it didn’t help that you were clinging on a incredibly good-looking man who kept a firm hand on your waist all night. You knew you had to go back to his suite with him, and honestly? You were looking forward to it.

Soon, the party started to wind down. You and Mingyu agreed that it was time to go. You stepped out of the hotel with Mingyu’s coat on to shield you from the cold. His arm around your shoulders helped keep you warm too as you waited for the valet to arrive with his car.

Mingyu’s phone buzzed in his pocket and upon checking it, his brows furrowed darkly. “Damn it, not again.”

“What’s wrong?”

He sighed and then squeezed your shoulder before letting go. “I need to check something. I’ll be right back.”

You nodded and he pressed a soft kiss on your cheek before walking away. As you watched him leave, you tightened his coat around you, looking back at the hotel lobby and wondering if you should go back inside. You were doing that when your gaze caught Vernon’s.

He was standing just a few steps away with his phone pressed on his ear. He saw you looking and nodded as a greeting. You mirrored his greeting, looking away right after and hoping to avoid conversation.

Mingyu came rushing back in no time, his phone pressed to his ear, frustration lining his face. He muttered a quick apology into the receiver before hanging up.

“Is everything okay?” you asked, furrowing your brows.

Mingyu let out a long sigh. “My car won’t start. I was trying to get it sorted with the valet, but it looks like I’m going to be stuck here for a while.”

You glanced at the time on your phone, noting how late it was getting. “Oh no… do you need me to wait with you?”

Mingyu shook his head, his expression still annoyed but softening when he met your eyes. “Nah, you don’t have to. I’ll be fine, but you should head home. I’ll get you a cab.”

Before you could figure out how to respond, Vernon spoke up. “I can give you a ride,” he offered, his voice firm but not insistent. “It’s no trouble.”

You hesitated for a moment, glancing between the two men. Mingyu gave you a hesitant look. “Is that okay with you? Do you know each other?” he asked, though he already knew who Vernon was to you.

“Yes, but I’m not sure,” you replied, surprising yourself with your honesty. “I think I’ll take a cab. I don’t want to impose.”

“Please, I insist,” Vernon said, walking closer. He must have noticed you looking behind him because he added, “You’re not imposing.”

You stared at him for a while, gouging out what he was thinking, but there was no hint of it in the way his expression remained unfazed. Mingyu’s hand on your shoulders prompted your attention.

“If you don’t trust him, let’s just get you a cab,” Mingyu offered, but you could see the glint of mischief in his eyes. He was enjoying this. He probably thought this ‘drama’ was entertaining.

“I’m sure I’m far more trustworthy than any taxi driver,” Vernon interjected.

“Well… if you’re sure,” you mumbled, avoiding Vernon’s gaze. You met Mingyu’s instead, and you could almost see the triumph in his eyes. “What about you?”

“I’ll be fine. Just text me when you get home,” he said, waving goodbye. You could almost say he was excited to see you leave with your ex.

Mingyu gave you a soft kiss before saying goodbye. Still wrapped in Mingyu’s coat, you walked quietly behind Vernon, trying to steady your breathing and hoping he wouldn’t notice that you were nervous.

Vernon opened the passenger door for you, and as you sat down inside his car, a rush of memories hit you all at once. It was familiar, too familiar. Even the scent was engulfing you with nostalgia. This was the first time you’d ever felt like an outsider in such a familiar space.

“Where’s your apartment?”

You quietly typed in your address in the navigator and didn’t say anything else. Vernon seemed to understand your silence and he started driving without a word.

“I didn’t expect to see you tonight.” Vernon was the first to break the silence that had stretched on for about fifteen minutes.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. “Same here.”

“How do you know Kim Mingyu?” he asked, his eyes flicking toward you briefly before focusing on the road again. You couldn’t tell what his intentions were, nor could you grasp his emotions when he asked that.

“Why do you care?” you retorted, the words coming out sharper than you’d intended.

He paused before answering, his voice measured. “It’s fine if you don’t want to tell me. I just want you to be careful. I’ve heard things about him. He’s got a bit of a reputation for being… a player.”

You scoffed lightly, turning your gaze out the window. “He’s a friend from college. I’m sure I know him better.”

“If you say so.” There was a moment of hesitation before he added, “Just… take care of yourself. I’m not trying to tell you what to do. You can hang out with anyone you like. I just hope you’d be careful, that’s all.”

Your chest tightened at his concern, but instead of acknowledging it, you let out a small breath. “His car wasn’t yours.”

Vernon glanced at you, clearly puzzled. “What?”

You stayed quiet, refusing to repeat yourself. Soon, the car slowed to a stop in front of your apartment building. You unbuckled your seatbelt, hesitating before reaching for the door handle. Vernon’s hands remained on the steering wheel, his knuckles pale in the dim light.

“Thanks for the ride,” you said, your voice softer than before.

“No problem,” he replied with his eyes straight ahead, avoiding yours.

You opened the door but paused halfway out. There was something in the air between you and it made it impossible to just leave. You needed to ask him, even if you weren’t sure you wanted the answer.

“Vernon,” you started, turning back toward him. His name left your lips before you fully realized what you were about to say. He glanced at you, brows slightly raised in question. “Why didn’t you… why didn’t you fight for us?”

The question hung in the air, almost visible in the thick silence that followed. Vernon blinked, his expression unreadable at first. He shifted in his seat, letting out a slow breath as if he’d been holding it for a long time.

“I did,” he said finally, his voice low, like he was admitting something he hadn’t wanted to. “I did fight for us. But you—” He stopped, choosing his words carefully. “You were already gone. You’d made up your mind.”

You swallowed hard. “But you just let me go.”

Vernon turned his body slightly to face you, his eyes finally locking with yours. “I just let you go? I begged you to stay, did you forget?”

“No, I didn’t. But after that, when the emotional outburst was over, when we were calmer and more rational, why didn’t you try to fight for us?” you asked, your brows furrowed in curiosity.

“Well, why didn’t you?” he asked back, and suddenly, you forgot how to speak. Vernon watched you for a while, taking in your silence and seemingly coming to his own conclusion.

“I didn’t let you go because I wanted to,” he said, his voice rough around the edges. “I let you go because you wanted to. And I thought it was what you needed. And besides, I didn’t know how to fix it. Everything I did felt like it just made things worse. I loved you, but… I didn’t know how to make you stay.”

Something open inside you, something you hadn’t wanted to confront. But hearing him like this now, you had no choice but to accept the truth that it was your fault you broke up. You already knew, you just chose to delude yourself into thinking it was both your fault and his.

The car felt smaller now, with the tension hanging in the air so thick it felt like you were suffocating. You could hear Vernon’s breathing, steady but shallow, and you realized how close you both were.

“I should go,” you whispered, but your body stayed frozen in place. Neither of you moved.

Vernon just nodded, his eyes still searching yours as if he was trying to figure out if there was something more to say. In the dim light, they seemed softer, more vulnerable than you’d remembered. His gaze flicked down to your lips for the briefest of moments before returning to your eyes. It was barely noticeable, but you caught it and your pulse quickened.

You should leave. This wasn’t part of the plan—letting things get tangled up again, letting the past claw its way back. But instead, you stayed rooted in place.

You gathered your thoughts for a proper goodbye. “I’m sorry for everything, Vernon. I wished things had gone differently between us,” you said quietly. Your hand had somehow found its way to his arm, just resting there, the warmth of his arm seeping into your fingers. He looked down at your hand, and then back up at you.

“Too late for that now, isn’t it?” His voice was soft, vulnerable, and the intensity of it made your heart ache.

“I know,” you replied, smiling timidly.

Vernon didn’t say anything and just stared at you. You stared back, trying to understand the meaning behind his gaze and the significance of the slight scowl on his face. You didn’t even notice that you were both leaning in slowly. Only when you felt the warmth of his breath against your cheek did you realize how close you’d gotten. Your breath caught in your throat, your body frozen in place, torn between wanting to close the gap and knowing you shouldn’t.

For a split second, you thought he might kiss you. The thought sent a shockwave of emotion through you—longing, confusion, excitement and fear all at once. You tilted your head ever so slightly, your lips just a breath away from his.

But you stopped yourself. “No,” you whispered, pulling back just enough to break the spell that had momentarily taken hold of both of you. “This isn’t… we shouldn’t.”

“Right,” he said quietly, his voice flat. His jaw clenched, his eyes flicking away from yours as he leaned back into his seat. “I’m sorry.”

“I… I should go,” you repeated, this time you mean it. You pushed the door open and stepped out.

Vernon didn’t stop you. He just nodded, his eyes no longer meeting yours. “Take care of yourself,” he said softly.

You nodded, slipping out of the car, your body still buzzing with the closeness you had almost let happen. As you walked toward your building, you didn’t look back, but you could still feel his presence behind you.

And despite everything, as you climbed the steps to your apartment, a part of you wondered what would happen if you didn’t pull away.

The next day, you met with Mingyu just before he left. The conversation was easy, perfectly civil as if nothing significant had happened. He flashed his usual grin as he told you, “I’m flying back tomorrow.”

“It was fun having you around,” you said, offering him a polite smile.

“You liked the distraction, huh?” he retorted, wiggling his eyebrows.

Chuckling, you hit his chest. “Let me know if you’re ever in town.”

“Are you gonna show me a good time?” he teased, tilting his head as he leaned closer.

You rolled your eyes, a small scoff escaping your lips. “Just go away.”

After a tender kiss on your cheek, Mingyu waved you off, and just like that, he was gone—another fleeting moment in a series of encounters that left you feeling emptier than before.

By the weekend, you felt like dying, literally. It started with a sore throat, then chills, until finally, you found yourself curled up under layers of blankets, sick and miserable—alone in your apartment that felt too quiet, too cold.

You lay there, groggy and disoriented, and all you could think about was how Vernon used to take care of you when you were sick. He’d make you soup, sit by your bedside, and remind you to take your medicine. He knew exactly how to make you feel comforted, even when you couldn’t take care of yourself.

But now, Vernon was gone. You had to handle this on your own. You didn’t realize how much you’d miss being babied until now.

The day dragged on, your body was weak and heavy, and the hours blurred together in a feverish haze. It wasn’t until the afternoon that you heard a knock at your door—insistent, again and again, until it forced you to get up.

You shuffled to the door, body aching with every step. When you opened it, it was Vernon standing on the other side with a suitcase, most probably filled with the last of your things from his place.

“Hi. You didn’t come by yesterday, so I thought I’d just…” he started, but then his eyes took in your pale complexion, the fatigue written all over your face. “...drop your things—are you okay?”

“Peachy,” you managed to quip.

“Here, let’s take you back inside.”

Before you could protest, Vernon took you by the arm and guided you back inside to your bed. You were too weak to argue, your body giving in to the relief of being cared for, if only for a moment. He tucked you in nicely, and you watched as he moved across the room to adjust the lights and your thermostat.

“How long have you been sick like this?” you heard him ask, and although you opened your mouth to speak, you weren’t sure if you answered him out loud before drifting off to sleep.

The next time you woke up, the room was dim, and the afternoon light pouring into the windows slowly faded into the evening. You blinked, disoriented, and realized you were tucked neatly into bed with a fever patch on your forehead. Across from you, Vernon sat on the couch, scrolling through his phone. The sight of him there, in your space, felt surreal—like a piece of the past had materialized in your present.

I thought it was a dream, you pondered as you pushed yourself up with your hands.

When Vernon noticed you stirring, he stood, slipping his phone into his pocket. “Sorry. I was just about to leave,” he said, his voice quiet. “I left some food on the table.”

You sat up slowly, the blankets still tangled around you. “Why are you here?” The question came out softer than you intended, but you needed to know. It didn’t make sense—why he was doing this, why he cared enough to be here now.

Vernon hesitated, his hand hovering by the doorframe. “I just… wanted to make sure you were okay. That’s all.”

You frowned, not buying it. “You didn’t have to. You had no reason to.”

“I couldn’t really leave you like that,” he replied, a tightness in his voice. “I’m just looking out for you. For old time’s sake.”

“For old time’s sake,” you mocked, your words tinged with bitterness. “Right.”

He shifted uncomfortably, his gaze darting away from yours. But the tension in the air had already thickened, pulling at the edges of the conversation. You couldn’t let it go—not this time.

“You’re lying, Vernon,” you said, sitting up straighter now, the exhaustion in your body giving way to something sharper. “You’re not here just for old time’s sake.”

Vernon sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m not lying.”

“Then why are you here?” you pressed, your voice rising. “Why are you acting like you care? If you don’t—if you don’t love me anymore, then why are you here?”

His jaw clenched, and for a moment, he didn’t answer. The silence stretched, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest.

“I’m just trying to do the right thing,” he finally said, his tone more strained than before. “It didn’t feel right to see you suffering alone.”

“You’re doing this because you still care,” you shot back. “I can see it. You’re just too stubborn to admit it.”

Vernon’s expression hardened. “It’s not like that.”

“Then what is it?” you demanded, your voice breaking slightly.

His eyes met yours, conflicted, and for a moment, you thought he might say something—something that would change everything. But then he shook his head, stepping back toward the door.

“I’m leaving,” he said quietly, his voice almost a whisper.

A sudden impulse surged through you. You rose to your feet, feeling a little dizzy for standing up too fast. “Do you love her?” you asked, making Vernon stop dead in his tracks.

You stared at his back, chest tightening with frustration and longing. “Vernon, do you love her? Are you gonna marry her?”

“I don’t need to answer that.”

“Why not?” you demanded. “How hard was it? It’s a yes or no answer, Vernon.”

“And it’s not going to help you. If anything, I might end up hurting you more.”

“Why do you care how I feel?”

He turned to face you, frustration etched on his features. “What do you want me to say? That I’m miserable without you? That I can’t stand the thought of you with someone else? Because that’s not the truth and it isn’t fair to any of us.”

“Not fair?” you echoed incredulously. “What’s not fair is you leading me on! Making me think there is something for me to hold on to when there isn’t! That is what’s not fair!”

Vernon took a step closer, his expression darkening. “I’m not leading you on. Just because I care about you as someone who used to be special to me, doesn’t mean I’m trying to get back with you. It isn’t my fault if you’re misinterpreting my actions. ”

You glared at him, heart pounding. “Then answer my question,” you huffed, grabbing him by the collar and staring right into his eyes. “Do you love her?”

Silence enveloped you both, the tension was so thick that you could hear nothing but the heavy breathing from you and Vernon. You both stood there, staring into each other’s souls, tangled in a web of unresolved emotions.

Before you could register what was happening, he reached for you, cupping your face with his hands. And then his lips were on yours, tentative at first, igniting a fire that had long been extinguished. You kissed him back, the familiar warmth washing over you, the taste of him awakening something deep inside you that you thought had faded.

As the kiss deepened, it felt right in a way that nothing else had in months. You were lost in the moment, the world around you blurring until there was nothing but him and you.

But just as quickly as the warmth enveloped you, a cold wave of doubt crashed over your mind. You pulled away panting, uncertainty clouding your thoughts, telling you this shouldn’t be happening.

“Vernon…” you started, but he was already leaning in again, capturing your lips in a desperate kiss that stole the breath from your lungs.

In the haze of passion, you both stumbled toward the bed, and everything fell away—time, space, even the reality of your situation. It felt exhilarating to be with him again, to feel desired and loved, even if just for a moment.

But as morning light filtered through the curtains, reality came crashing back. You blinked awake, groggy and disoriented, the warmth of the bed and the fading memories of the night before slowly coming into focus.

“You’re so beautiful,” Vernon had whispered in your ear last night. “You’ve always been beautiful.”

You forgot how you felt when you heard that from him, but you knew it wasn’t a pleasant feeling. Your heart raced as you turned to the other side of the bed expecting to find it empty—and it was. The space beside you was cold. The warmth that enveloped you last night was now replaced by an aching void. Vernon was gone.

You swung your legs over the side of the bed, heart sinking as memories of the night flooded back—how it felt to be with him, how everything seemed to fall back into place, if only for a fleeting moment. But the bliss faded as quickly as it had come, replaced by a feeling of immense unease.

Rubbing your eyes, you stumbled into the bathroom where the harsh fluorescent light flickered to life. You blinked at your reflection in the mirror, and your heart plummeted at the woman staring back at you—disheveled, hair a mess, eyes filled with confusion and regret.

“What did you do?” you whispered, covering your mouth with your hand as you fell on weakened knees.

Tears pricked at your eyes as you felt a wave of disgust wash over you. The reality and the consequences of your actions came crashing down. You had crossed a line. You made Vernon cheat on his girlfriend all because you couldn’t bear the thought of him moving on. How could you have let this happen? You felt awful, a knot of shame twisting in your gut. You had chased a fleeting feeling, clung to a moment that meant nothing in the grand scheme of things.

And now as you sat on your bathroom floor, sobbing uncontrollably, you couldn’t escape the truth; you had betrayed not just Vernon or Suji, but yourself. Regret filled your mind, and all you could think about was the pain you’d caused everyone and how that would haunt you long after this moment faded into memory.

Seungcheol’s eyes didn’t leave you, the slight furrow on his brows was a clear display of his disappointment toward you.

“I know. I was disappointed in myself too,” you said, letting out a deprecatory laugh. “I was stupid and I regretted it.”

“I’m not disappointed. I can’t possibly judge you for that,” he replied, waving a hand dismissively. “It was just unexpected from you.”

“Oh, so you know me now?”

“You’ve shared three of these stories. I think I have a grasp on what kind of person you are now,” he replied, eyeing you with a hint of curiosity and amusement on his face.

You hummed, tilting your head slightly. “Touche.” You sat up straight, eyeing the bottle in front of Seungcheol. He saw how your eyes twinkled with mischief and as if in defeat, he took the bottle and poured you a glass with a sigh.

“Thanks,” you chimed, taking a sip. “So, since you have a ‘grasp’ of who I am now, how would you have reacted if you were my friend at the time and I told you what I did?”

Seungcheol didn’t miss a beat. “I’d tell you ‘you messed up’.”

You gasped, hands covering your mouth dramatically. “No fucking way.”

The first thing you did after realizing your mistake was take a long bath and cry your eyes out. After that, you called Mina, desperate to talk to someone who would listen. Her reaction was not what you had hoped for, but it was expected.

Anger flickered in her eyes and disappointment shadowed her face. “You messed up really badly this time,” she said, her voice sharp.

“Thanks… That’s exactly what I needed to hear at the lowest point in my entire life,” you replied, your tone biting. It was hard to swallow her judgment despite knowing you had crossed a line.

“No. What the actual fuck was wrong with you?” she hollered, placing her hand over her forehead in frustration as she paced around your apartment. “Why did you let that happen?”

“I don’t know. I was… I was desperate. I thought…” you trailed off, everything felt like an excuse now and you didn’t want to drag this out. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I was so stupid.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t—” She exhaled sharply. “What happened to you? Why did it have to come to this?”

You buried your face in your hands. “I don’t know.”

Mina must have sensed your frustration then, the weight of your actions pressing heavily on your chest. She sat next to you and hugged you, rubbing your back as she let you cry your heart out once again.

Later that week, Vernon asked to meet, and despite the turmoil churning in your gut, you agreed. As you sat across from him in the café, you couldn’t look him in the eyes. The quiet stretched on, both of you looking miserable, drowning in the weight of what had happened.

“I—I just wanted to say that what happened… it was a mistake,” Vernon finally said, his eyes avoiding yours. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault.”

His apology echoed in your mind. “It’s not just your fault, Vernon,” you replied, your voice trembling slightly. “You can blame me too. I pushed you into it. I should’ve just let you leave.”

“Still, it was me who—”

“I hope you’re okay,” you said, cutting him off. “I hope this doesn’t ruin what you have with Suji.”

“I hope so too,” he muttered, fiddling with his fingers. “I couldn't tell you I love her because we just started dating and I haven't fallen so deep in love with her yet. But I know for sure that I want things to work out with her. I like her a lot.”

His admission made your heart clench, not in pain but in relief. You were relieved to know he was serious about Suji, and that he’d try to make things work. For some reason, it gave you some sort of reassurance. It was odd because you didn’t know why you felt that way when you should be depressed over the fact that he really loved Suji and would not pick you over her despite what had happened between you.

“I wish you luck, Vernon.”

He smiled at you—one that was filled with affection, not for a lover but for a really dear friend. “Good luck to you too. I hope you find your own happiness soon.”

“You and me both,” you chimed.

You both agreed to move on properly, to face the consequences of your actions and try to find closure. As you parted ways for what felt like the final time, a heaviness settled in your chest, but it was a weight you knew you had to bear alone.

In the days that followed, you found yourself sinking into loneliness, drowning in your own thoughts. You replayed the events over and over, dissecting each moment until you could barely remember what had drawn you to Vernon in the first place.

It was in this solitude that you realized it wasn’t Vernon that you wanted. You didn’t long for him or the comfort of his presence. You were just insecure. You wanted to prove to yourself that you were valued, loved, and that you were not inferior to anyone. You didn't love him anymore; your ego was just bruised. The connection you thought you missed was really just a desperate need for validation, a desire to reclaim a part of yourself that you felt had been lost.

The ache in your chest began to morph into something different—something like a resolution. You could rebuild, not just from the ashes of your mistakes but from the ashes of who you had thought you were.

About two weeks later, you found yourself unexpectedly face-to-face with Suji at a library. As you watched her interact with children, you realized why Vernon was so taken by her. She really was amazing, not just because she was beautiful and radiant, but because she was soft-spoken, kind, and loveable. Shame washed over you, and you felt small in her presence, aware of the hurt you had caused her.

“Excuse me,” you managed to say while she was picking up the books the children had left behind. She glanced at you, eyebrows raised curiously.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “I don’t know if you know me, but there’s something I need to tell you.”

“It’s okay,” she replied briskly, a polite smile playing on her lips. But the warmth didn’t reach her eyes; instead, you saw animosity in them. “I already know. Vernon told me.”

You bit your lower lip, feeling even smaller under her unwavering gaze. “I just wanna say I’m sorry. It was my fault.”

“It is, but it was also Vernon’s. You were both foolish,” she said, still with a smile but her words were blunt.

“I’m really sorry,” you repeated, your voice a whisper. You could feel your heart pounding, desperate for her understanding. “I don't know what else to say. I have no excuse.”

“Vernon and I are trying to fix things. We both intend to make it work, despite what happened.” Her expression hardened. “And I’m going to be honest: I don’t like you. I don’t really hate you either, but I hope we never have to see each other again.”

“Suji, I—”

“If we can’t avoid it, let’s just pretend we don’t know each other. I hope you’d do me that favor.”

You nodded, the sting of her words cutting deep. “Of course. I just want you to be happy.”

“That includes Vernon. I don’t want you around us—around him.” She stepped closer, her face was calm but you could see the pain in her eyes. “It might sound childish, but this is the only way I’ll feel at ease.”

“Vernon is a good man. He would never hurt you. I—”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t,” she shot back, her voice steady. “But when it comes to the woman he loved so dearly in the past, I think we both know what could happen. It’s difficult, you know? To compete with the ghost of the past you and Vernon had. He may be over it now, but that didn’t mean he’d completely erased you from his life.”

You clenched your fists at your sides, trying to contain the overwhelming emotions. “I don’t wanna come between you two.”

“Do you still love him? Do you still want him back?” she pressed, her gaze unflinching.

“No. Not anymore,” you said and you were surprised because it didn’t feel like a life. In fact, it felt liberating to finally say it out loud.

“Then that’s good enough for me,” she replied, her voice softening. “Just stay away from us. Please.”

“Please forgive him,” you pleaded, desperation creeping in. “He made mistakes, but he’s still—”

“We’ll solve our own issues,” she interrupted again, her tone final. “And you’re in no position to ask me for any favors.”

You took a step back. “I know. I’m really sorry. I’m gonna… go.”

As you turned to leave, you could feel her gaze burning into your back. You wished you could have said something more in apology, but you were content with the conversation too.

“So, here I am,” you said quietly to Seungcheol. “A promotion was offered at work and I took it. I had to pack my bags and work halfway across the country, but that was the best part of it. I was able to leave. I couldn’t stay there. I needed a reset. Far away from the life I was now too ashamed to live”

There was a long pause, the air between you feeling lighter now, as if confessing this truth had somehow eased the burden on your shoulders.

“And now?” Seungcheol asked gently. “How do you feel about it after all this time has passed?”

You thought about it for a moment, really letting yourself feel the emptiness where all that regret used to sit. But instead of pain, there was something else there now. Something calmer. Softer.

“Now?” You sighed, the answer finally clear. “Now, I think I’m ready to move on. Not from Vernon, but from everything. From needing someone else to tell me I’m enough.”

You leaned back in your chair, feeling lighter than you had in months—maybe even years. “I’m okay with being on my own now. All this time away gave me time to rediscover myself.”

Seungcheol’s smile was small but sincere. “That’s the most important thing, isn’t it?”

You nodded. “Yeah. I think it is.”

For the first time in a long time, the silence that followed didn’t feel heavy or oppressive. It felt like peace. And for the first time, you let yourself believe it. You were free. Finally, truly free.

[fin]

277 notes · View notes

twice-inamillion · 10 months ago

Text

The Company

Strangers

Smut and Story Building (Stranger sex, teasing, rebound sex, deep penetration, creampie, blowjob)

Chapter 5

2,610 Words

(Jessica and you have dinner together after her failed attempt to meet with her friends. She complains about her ex and you find your way to fuck her at the end, maybe a little too good. Now she can’t go to her ex or any other man after your lustful adventure.)

It’s been a busy couple of weeks in your personal and professional life. You haven’t had a chance to rest, besides the occasion blowjob at the office. This week, you’ve finalized two groups that will be debuting in the near future. You’ve waited so long for your first group to debut that you couldn’t help but support them the best you could. You made the decision to move them out of their cramped dorms and into a nicer and more spacious apartment meant for confirmed idol groups.

Wanting to see their reaction, you disguise yourself as staff and help them move in. You can’t help but smile at their reaction when they see their new apartment. You and IU give them a tour and get furniture arranged to their liking. As you carry some of the heavy items, you can’t help but notice one of the members eyeing you from time to time. “Where do you want this box?” She walks between you, points at where she wants her item and continues to follow you around. You then hear, “Jennie, stop following him and come help us bring these boxes.” You see Jennie’s face turn red from the comment that her groupmate Jisoo made.

After a couple of hours, the five members thank you for your help, and you let them know to inform IU if you need any help, to which they happily agree.

——————

You’re heading up the elevator when it stops. The door opens, and you see a familiar figure.

“Jessica?”

“Ahh, yes,” bowing after realizing you’re Taeyeon and IU’s boss.

“Don’t need to be formal. Feel free to speak freely.”

“Okay.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I came to surprise IU and Taeyeon, but they’re not home.”

“Oh… I think they’re busy until late tonight.”

You can see her reaction change and say, “Seems like something is bothering you.”

“Yeah, I need to talk to them about something.”

“If you don’t mind, I’m willing to lend an ear. How about joining me for dinner?”

She stays silent and seems to think about it for a while but makes up her mind, “Yeah, I think I’ll take you on the offer.”

The two of you head to your apartment, “Wow, your place is so big. I didn’t know you had a whole floor to yourself.”

“It’s nice. I know I won’t have time to commute from home, so I moved next to the company, which makes it much easier. Want a drink?”

“Sure.”

You serve her a drink, and she sits on the stool, watching you prepare dinner. You make a nice Korean meal, and the two of you share some wine. She tells you about the problems between her members, but more about her failed relationship with her now ex-boyfriend.

“He’s such a dumb ass. He was so scared of people finding out about our relationship that he just chose to distance each other.”

“His loss. If I was him, I wouldn’t care what people think.”

“Right, he’s such a wuss. I don’t need people like that in my life.”

“Maybe you’ll find someone that cares for you. I mean, look at you; you’re beautiful; who wouldn’t want to date you.”

“Aww, thank you. I would totally date you if you weren’t with Taeyeon,” says Jessica as she takes a sip of her wine.

“What do you mean together with Taeyeon?”

“Aren’t you to dating?”

“No, I’m not with anyone.”

“Oh… it just seemed with you were. She said you to had a thing.”

“We fucked, but nothing serious.”

“So you’re not together?”

“No.”

Jessica fixes her hair and undoes her blouse a bit, “You know, it's been a while since my ex and fucked. He was too intimidated by my popularity that he stopped giving me affection.”

“Oh really, maybe I can help you with that.”

“Hmm… I don’t know. We don’t know each other that well,” teasing you as she shows off a bit of cleavage.

“If you don’t want to, that’s fine, but from the looks of it, you need someone to fuck you real good to make you forget that bitch of a boyfriend you had.”

She smirked at you, knowing that you hit the nail. “Not saying that I’ll let you, but if I did, what would you do to me?”

“I’ll take you right here, right now, and put you on all fours. I’ll put your ass up and shove my cock in that hungry cunt of yours and fuck you until you forget that ex of yours.”

You could see that she was getting turned on by the way she would move her legs under the kitchen counter. You know she needs a good fucking, and she knows it as well.

“You think you can make me forget about him? You’re that good?”

“If Taeyeon told you about what do you think?”

“You’re just talking.”

You walk around the countertop, turn her stool around to face you, and say, “Just say the word, and I’ll guarantee you forget that ex of yours.” You look straight into her eyes; you can see the lust in her. You know the thin line she is about to cross; you can see it in your eye; all you need to hear is the magic words.

“Fuck me, make me forget.”

Those are the words you wanted to hear. The is no going back, especially for her. You’ll make sure you make her forget about that sad excuse of a boyfriend.

She wraps her legs around you as you pick her up from the stool and take her to the couch. She kisses you passionately on the way there, but you don’t care for that and toss her onto the couch. You take off your shirt and see her eyes widen, and biting her lip. Her reaction makes you smirk and decide to go all out. You’re not here for foreplay; you’re here to fuck the shit out of her.

You pull off her skirt and panties, tossing them across the room, “Wow, so eager, huh.”

“I’m here to fuck you, right? Plus, I can see that you’re wet already, so let’s not waste any time.”

She nods her head, and you continue to undress, pulling down your pants and boxers, revealing your cock.

She gasps when she sees your cock spring out and says, “Oh my god. Your cock is so big!”

“Bigger than your ex, huh.”

“Yeah, much, much bigger. His doesn’t even compare. Don’t think it’s all going to fit inside me, though.”

“It will. It fits inside of Taeyeon. I bet you’ll take me in nicely, too.”

You grab your cock and slap it on her slightly shaven cunt, just small traces of hair from not having sex in a while. She could feel the hot radiating from your cock, making her cunt leak even more.

“You like it?,” asking as you press your cock on her pelvis. “Yeah, I want you in me; make me forget of that dirtbag.”

You can help but smile as you align your rock-hard cock and slowly press the tip inside of the entrance. Jessica moans and whines, from how much you’re stretching her, “Oh my god! You’re so big!” You grab her hips with a firm grip and press your weight on her. She feels your thick cock spread her walls, “Fuck… it feels like you’re splitting me in half!”

“You’re so tight! How small was your ex? Feels like I’m the first one fucking you!”

She whines and groans as your try to insert more of your cock, “Much smaller! His cock is nothing compared to yours!”

You can’t help but laugh at the poor guy, “Damn, poor guy, but don’t worry; I’m going to stretch you real good,” as you slam your cock all the way inside Jessica’s womb. She screams in both pain and pleasure, “You’re hitting me so deep! Let me breathe a bit,” but you don’t let her. You’re here to fuck and enjoy and enjoy, so watching her whine turns you on. You increase the speed and strength of your thrusting and can see Jessica go in a state of ecstasy. Her body and mind are experiencing something they have never experienced before.

You can’t help but smile at the sight of Jessica’s eyes rolling back and making her into a complete mess. It’s not long until she ends up having an orgasm, her body squirming, “Ahh… ahh, fuck! What’s going on? Why is my body feeling so hot? I feel like I’m going to pee!” and cries as she sprays you of liquid when you pinch her clit.

You pull your cock and are sprayed with Jessica’s liquid and see her panting. You immediately plugged your cock back inside of her, causing her to cough violently from the sudden pain of her womb getting stabbed. She tries to push you off, but it's no use. You can feel your own high arriving, and you need to see it through.

Her walls were tight, and it was making you reach your peak; you know that it’s the first time you two actually met besides her casual visit, but you really want to cum inside of her like one of your sleeves.

“Fuck… I’m about to cum.”

Jessica’s eyes go wide, and she says, “Wait… cum outside, pull out!”

“Nah… I’m going to cum inside!” you yell and grab her waist and blow your load inside of her. Jessica’s back arches and her body shakes as she feels your heavy white load invade her cunt. “Fuck…your pussy is milking me…”

It takes a while for Jessica to regain her composure, but after some time, she lifts her head up and says, “I told you to pull out. Why did you come in me?”

“You said you wanted to forget about your ex, right?”

“Yeah, but don’t just cum inside me.”

“Why not?”

“Just don’t. Not even my ex came inside of me,” she pouted.

“Haha, really?

“Yes, I made him wear a condom every time.”

“So that means I’m the first one to paint you white?”

“Yes…”

You can’t help yourself but get turned on again. You pick her up and carry her to the bedroom next to yours. She yelps when you toss her onto the bed and turn her over. You lift her, press her body down and lift her butt up in the air and spread her legs.

“Wait…what are you doing?”

“What does it look like? I’m hard, and I really want to fuck you, so just relax and enjoy.”

“Wait… I’m not…” you don’t give her time to finish off her sentence as you quickly align your cock to her entrance and shove it in one go. “Oh fuck! You’re being too rough!”

You grab her ass and give it a nice feel before giving it a hard slap. Jessica groans in pain from your large hand on her rear but gets turned on. Seeing her reaction, you continue to slap her ass, every time with a heavy hand, until her ass is completely red.

You thrust inside of her for about ten minutes until you’re at your peak once more. With your two hands, you grab her hips and bring them towards you as you place your weight on her and say, “I’m cumming! I’m going to paint your walls completely white. Your pussy is mine!”

You unload a massive amount of cum inside her, completely drowning her cunt of your seed, “Take my cum!” as Jessica’s blood comes rushing to her head. She grabs onto the bedsheets, gripping them hard as you drop your load into her cunt. “It’s too much; you’re going to drown me!”

You pull out your cock and watch your cum ooze out of her and stain the bed. “How was it?”

“Hot. I can feel the warmth right here,” she says as she points at her tummy.

———-

The two of you spend the whole night fucking, round after round. You smirk as she moans out your name and digs her nails deep into your arm as you fuck her. Anywhere from the hot tub, out on the balcony, and the shower. By the next day, she’s a mess, her womb completely yours and the shape of your massive cock. You know she’s ruined for any other man that’s not near your size.

“Still remember your ex?”

“What ex?”

You can’t help but laugh as you enjoy a blowjob from Jessica while lying on the bed. With her hand around your cock she bobs her head. Her tongue coats every inch of you with a thick layer of saliva. You grab your phone and take a quick picture before Jessica notices. She lifts her and catches you, “Hey, what are you doing?”

You grab her head and press it back down, causing her to gag when your cock hits the back of her throat. The sudden reaction of hitting her throat causes you to bust a load. In a panic, she tries to drink as much as she can because it's too much for her and gags. You release your grip, and Jessica lifts her head up, coughing. You watch cum dripping out her mouth and back onto your pelvis. “Lick it off.” She sees your serious look and does as she’s told, licking off the cum she just spits out.

Suddenly, her phone rings, and she grabs the phone from the nightstand. She answered the phone, and it was Taeyeon with IU.

“Why haven’t you answered our texts? Where are you?”

“Sorry, I fell asleep after getting home.”

“Oh, okay, we’re sorry we were not able to meet yesterday. How about joining us for brunch?”

“Hmmm… I think we can…” She stops mid-sentence when she sees what’s in front of her.

You wave your cock in front of her and whisper, “Want to go again?”

She sees your limp cock get hard in a matter of seconds and is now at full length. She bites her lip and climbs on top of you, lifts herself to your cock, and with her free hand, aligns it to her cum stained, covered cunt before dropping her whole weight on you. She yelps from the girth and tightens her walls, “Ahh… actually, I have some last-minute things I need to take care of that might take me a while. How about meeting later next week?”

“Oh… okay. Next week sounds good.”

“Okay, bye…”

You grab the phone off her hands and end the call, throwing her phone at the end of the bed. “I see someone wants to go another round.”

“Shut up.”

“How about this round? Grab some breakfast after. Maybe dinner, too.” She smiles and begins to ride you.

——————

The two of you end up sending the whole weekend fucking like animals. At the end of each session, she begs you to pump her womb with cum, even going as far as to breed her. Like a gentleman, you do as you're told and even tease about her ex; she pinches your thigh and tells you to fuck her harder. You even joke around and say, “Do you think we know each other better now?”

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smutoperator · 16 days ago

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Hi. There are many different ways people prefer to have sex. Some people may not do it often, but they may do it dozens of times at a time. Some may do it once a day as a daily routine. Some may not do it every day, but they do it every time they meet. Some may prefer a quickie, while others may prefer a long session. Some may enjoy the risk of being caught in a public place, while others may enjoy sex in a place where their privacy is completely protected. Considering all this, how often, where, and how do each member of Girls’ Generation prefer to have sex in a week?

Taeyeon: likes daily sex in private places and long sessions but many times can't have it due to her routine. Loves to use her off-days to compensate having long orgies with multiple guys.

Jessica (former): doesn't do it every day and most sessions are short and private. Has largely adhered to a housewife type lifestyle with her longtime BF.

Sunny: due to her bad knee, sex is very rare these days for her. She usually takes it slow and does it in private. Sessions quite short nowadays with her enjoying more breast play than penetration properly.

Tiffany: an enthusiast of daily sex as a workout routine. Has a slight inclination towards public fucking and rough quickies but doesn't mind any type of sex, as long as you're fucking her good, it's fine.

Hyoyeon: known club freak, likes to go out at night and fuck completely unknown guys. Bathroom quickies are very much her specialty. In fact her DJ career is just a cover-up for those sex adventures.

Yuri: likes to have sex everywhere except her house: the pool, the gym, during yoga classes, you name it. Also does it on a daily basis as a workout. Then it's up for how long you can last. Best way is to find where she does her daily exercises and hit her up, she's quite straightforward.

Sooyoung: widely known in acting cycles as a sex freak. Very private but does it every day be it with her partner, on sexcapades or threesomes/orgies involving her partner. Likes long sessions.

YoonA: has become a massive free use enthusiast. Usually likes young studs that can fuck her rough in one of her many houses. Charges one of the most expensive fees in the whole country but guys pay it anyway, then look at their bank account fully red and make her pay with a hard pounding.

Seohyun: being called the baby maknae all those years made her try to prove otherwise the hardest. A big femdom enthusiast, invites guys on a daily basis either to her house or to secret club performances, dominating and edging them for as many hours as she wants.

#snsd smut #girls generation smut

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yangbbokari · 1 year ago

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Hyung Line!Skz stood you up on a date

Pairing: Hyung Line!skz x gn!reader Genre: Angst, fluff/comfort, idk Warnings: Nothing much but maybe a little cursing and mentions of insecurities Song rec: Fine - Taeyeon A.N: Requested by 🧈anon, sry this took so long😭 on top of being a student, I just procasinate a lot. Will this have a part 2? idk but we'll c

BANG CHAN You sat on your living room couch, fighting off the sleep that would be taking you any time now. Checking the time, it was nearly 2 a.m. You’d been waiting for him for a few hours. The restaurant had to close so you had to leave. It’s been so long since you had a date because of his busy schedule.

You had already been nodding off when you heard the door click. Chan slowly made his way into the living room, looking at your sleepy figure.

“Channie hyung..?” You said, rubbing your tired eyes. Chan smiled as he engulfed your body with his. “Mhmm… I’m home, Angel.”

He pulled closer, letting out a content sigh. But then letting out a heavier sigh. “I’m so sorry, Love. I shouldn’t have let work take over me again. You must be tired of always waiting for me.”

Shaking your head, you looked at him with tears in your eyes. “It’s okay.” You began to caress his face. “At least you’re home now. That’s all that matters.”

Chan gave you a small little pout-smile, kissing you on your temple before resting his head on yours. “What would i do without you?” He suddenly picked you up, in bridal style, and brought you to the room.

After tucking you in, he cuddled up beside you and pulled you in close. He adored you for a while before falling asleep to your soft snores. ~~~ LEE MINHO When Minho didn’t show up to your date, it began worrying you. He wasn’t one to just stand you up. You were so deep in your thoughts, you were startled by the sound of your phone ringing. Thinking it was Minho, you quickly grabbed your phone. Only to be disappointed when the screen read Chan.

“Hey, hyung. What’s up?” You heard a heavy sigh on the other side. “Minho said he’s sorry. He’s at the dorms right now with a high fever.”

You immediately bolted through the door with a coat and your keys. Upon hearing a car door slam and getting no response from you, Chan called out. “Y/n? You there?” But he was cut off when the call ended.

You drove as fast as you possibly could, without breaking any traffic laws, until you reached the dorms.

Chan opened the door when you arrived. “In his room.” You nodded your head softly.

When you reached his door, you softly knocked twice before going in. Silently, you crept in. The exhaustion coursing through his body didn’t allow him to turn to look at you. But he could speak.

“Hey, baby.” He said with a groan. He felt the side of his bed dip before you hand touched his forehead. “Shh. It’s okay. you don’t have to say much.”

Minho forced his body to turn to you as he wrapped his arms around your waist. You lowered your body down to meet his, pulling his head to your chest.

Before either of you knew it, it was morning. Now guess who else is sick. You chuckle as Minho kisses you nose.

“As one, they say.” ~~~ SEO CHANGBIN You had been blowing up his phone since three nights ago. He just so had the audacity to not only stand you up on a date, but go to a party AND get drunk.

Now he didn’t even have the balls to return home. Hiding out at the dorms seemed what was working best. That was until you showed up at the dorms. He instantly went into pout n beg mode.

“Please, baby. Please listen to me. I swear i didn’t mean it.”

You simply just dragged him out by the ear. None of the other boys even interfered. They knew not to mess with you when you were in this very irritable mood.

It took a much needed make out session, a cuddle session, a date, and a cake to make it up to you.

“I swear, like SWEAR I won’t do it again.” You sent a glare his way and he gulped, shutting his mouth.

You smiled and squeezed his cheek. “I love you too.” ~~~ HWANG HYUNJIN He definitely overslept. It was a quick morning coffee date before you went to you college classes. But as always, he overslept.

Hyunjin ran as fast as he could to the location. Thank the lord you were still there. You put on a faux pout. But he couldn’t tell. He plopped in his chair and reached for your hands from across the table.

“I promise, I didn’t mean to. I was supposed to come but I overslept. We practiced late last night so I slept a little more than I was supposed to. I didn’t want to be late. I want to see you every morning. I’m sorry. Do y—”

“Hyunjin.” You cut him off. “You’re rambling. It’s okay. I understand. It’s still early in the morning anyway.”

Hyunjin let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you.” He raised your hand to kiss it. “You know i love you right.”

You chuckled and nodded your head. “Yes, I do. Love you too. Even if you stood me up.”

“I SAID I DIDN’T MEANT TO!”

~~~

Sry this was extremely rushed. i don’t have much time to write it. But hope y’all like it. Idk when maknae line will be released but it will be sometime. Idk

#mumu writes #skz angst #skz fluff #skz imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids imagines #hyunjin #bang chan #leeknow #changbin #yangbbokari

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iznsfw · 1 year ago

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was wondering if you ever thought about writing a taeyeon smut with breeding/squirting kink

Setup

Part Three of Dulce Periculum | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Girls Generation's Kim Taeyeon x Male Reader Smut

5,273 words

Categories | exactly what's in the ask: breeding and squirting, fingering, cunnilingus, light bondage, overstimulation, uniform sex, subbymommy!Taeyeon

Of course I thought about it! I would have written a hundred more fics for Taeng like I did with Eunbi if I weren't a lazy fuck LMAO This chapter is already barely edited!

Anyway, here's best girl. Please enjoy and await the next chapter ;)

"That was… something."

Eunbi's on your lap again, as she always is. It would be no surprise if it's become what she uses for everything now: a school chair, a backseat, everything. Her glasses are tilted to the side and her skirt is a bit too undone for suspicion to not be cast, for questions to not be said: “Why do you look tired?”; “Do you need a ride home?”; “Were you fucking Ms. Kim?”

Already she's forgotten about her earlier volleyball game loss, which is a good thing, you guess, since a disappointed frown no longer dimples her cute face. You'd rather have this Eunbi: a smiley one, clinging to you as if the two of you were magnetic forces that can't be separated without a fight, with her hair down and her body resting on yours.

Comfort. That's the word.

You've no idea how you look like, but from the way she's attending to you—brushing your messy hair with her fingers and easing the bruises on your neck with soft massages—you'd say you look pretty fucked up, in a word-for-word kind of way, And the blame is on Kim Taeyeon, certified freak in the sheets and a pretty awesome teacher besides all that.

("In the classroom" would be a more fitting phrase. She completely dominated you and your girlfriend as if she owned you, and it's safe to say that after that, she does. It's something you're more than happy to give in to.)

"Are you okay? You'll have to use makeup for this, oppa," coos Eunbi as she worriedly massages a hickey.

"My parents won't give a fuck, Eun. They'd be glad to know I'm getting laid."

She pushes her bottom lip out understandingly and nods.

"What about you?"

"Uhh," she thinks for a moment, "my parents wouldn't see—"

"No." Reword that: "What I meant is: are you okay?"

She beams. Pretty girl, pretty girl, pretty girl—that charming little smile dances in your mind like an act at a circus. "I'm alive, aren't I?"

"No, I mean, are you okay with the whole insult thing?" You push her lopsided glasses back on her nose. She kisses you appreciatively. "She called you… what? 'Naughty little girl'?"

"You can say I am," singsongs Eunbi as she toys with your uniform tie. Her smile is wider, a little more mischievous. God, what has Taeyeon done to her? "Right, oppa?"

"Whatever."

"What? You don't like it?" She's pouting, knowing how much that little downward quirk of her lips affects your heart. She curls her arms around your neck and drags her face closer to yours. The old Eunbi would have known better than to put on PDA in school, considering it goes against several student regulations, but she's starting to become a little more coy than usual. Her flushed cheeks tell you that she likes doing that for you, too.

"No, I do," you clarify, your hands sliding down to her tiny waist. "But I just want to, like, know if you're fine with everything. I mean, she likes to talk down on you, maybe even hurt your feelings while doing it. You sure it doesn't raise a red flag?"

"Oh, 'red flag'! Oppa keeps up with the lingo!"

Roll your eyes. Here we fucking go. "You know that I'm barely older than you, right?”

Eunbi giggles. She curls her little arms around you and pulls you close.

Taper your gaze south and you can see there are bruises on her shoulders, and a couple more on her thighs and legs that her skirt fails to hide. Hearing that cute laugh from her causes you to wonder if you're the problem. What did you do to Eunbi? What have you turned her into? A year or two back, she was just a cute little honor student with time in her packed schedule to allow for tutoring you. Now, she's constantly on your lap, as if it's her favorite seat, with the sweet smile on her face proving to be deceptive whenever she guides your hand up her skirt.

Do you like it? Fuck yeah. Do you feel just a little bit guilty for corrupting her? That's also a yes.

"I'm fine with it," says Eunbi softly. "More than okay."

Her eyes are serious, but hold a gentleness in them that makes you want to pull her down and kiss her, and not even sexually. It brings you at least some comfort to know that whatever you made her into, she actively participates and allows. It would be a whole different thing if it weren't that way.

"You sure?"

"Yes, my cute little oppa. Stop worrying about me." Eunbi kisses your nose again. "Let's go home?"

You look around. The covered court is empty, except for the remaining volleyball nets and confetti. The high school buildings are also silent. Taeyeon's car is gone from the driveway. Nobody is here but the two of you.

Has looking at your empty school always been this nostalgic? You used to view education as nothing but a filler and obstacle in your schedule, but being with Eunbi makes you look forward to the future. Having your arm around her as you walk to your locker and sitting with her during lunch has significantly brightened your day. Even your grades started to improve—maybe love is the answer all along?

As corny as it sounds, it might be.

Your satisfied grin is genuine. Picking up the small girl bridal-style, you take the long day head in full stride. "Let's go home, pretty girl."

“Why are you home so late?”

Eunbi’s mother squints suspiciously as the two of you enter her house. You’ve come over to visit your girlfriend’s family more times than you can count, but after being royally fucked over by Kim Taeyeon, you can barely look her in the eyes.

“Sorry, mommy– mom,” fumbles Eunbi. Her ears are red; the word sounds strange now after she’s used it on a woman twice her age, most especially if said woman’s her teacher. She shrugs off your arm and steps out of her school shoes. “We stopped by the gym.”

“Yeah,” is all you can say to support the statement, considering you didn’t know until Eunbi mentioned it that there’s a gym nearby. It’s time to bulk and lift, you guess.

You and Eunbi stand guiltily at the doorway of the Kwon household, heads hung like faultful puppies. How to deal with Mrs. Kwon after you fucked her daughter and a nymphomaniac professor wasn’t exactly written down in the boyfriend manual. That’s why your mouth has nothing to say, and your hands go nowhere but your pockets. It’s an awkward situation you wouldn’t wish on even the most horrible school rival.

“You had sex, didn’t you?”

The bold, no-bullshit question makes Eunbi’s ears burn. Flustered, she shakes her head more times than someone who isn’t guilty should. “No!” she denies, as if offended by the thought of it. “Mom, why would you say that?”

“Oh, come on,” Mrs. Kwon says, placing her hands on her daughter’s shoulders. Her smile is hilariously condescending. “I know you get stressed when I make you attend all those extracurriculars. My little girl needs some relief, too, just like her dad—”

Your eyes widen.

“Ew!” Eunbi rushes into your arms and places her hands on her ears. “Mom, stop, what the fuck!”

“No swearing!” scolds her mother as she skips over to the kitchen to make dinner, her day slightly better now that she’s fulfilled her duty as a parent to humiliate Eunbi. “Make sure to be on the pill, my silver rain! Mommy loves you so much!”

Eunbi’s hiding her face in her palms, pressing them hard on her cheeks that it’s started to mold to their shape. You, on the other hand, are cackling, You’re having the time of your fucking life, slapping your knees like an entry to Heaven depends on it. You can’t believe the strict Mrs. Kwon would be so straightforward about that. It’s certainly a break of character, and an embarrassing but welcome one.

Your girlfriend glares at you. “It’s not funny!” she whines, punching you in the shoulder. “Oppa, how can you even laugh about that?”

“I’m sorry, Eunbi—” Interrupted by your own laughs, you apologize profusely. Still, your eyes make half-moon crescents and your stomach starts to hurt from giggling. “I’m sorry, it’s just—it’s just—”

“Oppa!”

"What did she say, baby? Mommy loves you so much—"

“You’re so mean to me!”

“No, wait, wait, wait, you’re not going anywhere.” Sweep her into your arms again when the upset Eunbi turns around to leave. She mewls in protest, but you kiss her over and over, arms ribboned tight around her body. Your laughing lips start to feel numb with how much they’ve touched her pale, milky skin. “I’m sorry, baby, I’m sorry, okay?”

“You’re not!”

Look down at Eunbi’s angry face and kiss her on the nose. That should work usually, but it seems like she’s really upset this time. “Oh, come on, baby,” you say. “I said I was sorry. What can I do to make you smile?”

Eunbi looks away like an upset bunny. It’s hard to keep a serious face when she’s too adorable even in times where she’s annoyed.

“Tell me,” you urge. “I promise I’ll do it.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

“Bring my uniform to school,” says Eunbi, still refusing to look you in the eye. As she speaks, she unbuttons her blouse and slips out of her skirt, leaving her in nothing but a camisole and volleyball shorts. “We’re training again tomorrow and I don’t want to carry it in my bag. And quit staring at my chest, perv!”

“Sorry.” Close your eyes for a few seconds, then open them, as if doing so would chasten them. The next second, Eunbi’s uniform is in your arms. “Where do I put it?”

“Give them to Professor Kim.”

“Oh no, don’t tell me you’re”—minimize your voice so Mrs. Kwon wouldn’t hear, just in case she'd been eavesdropping the whole time—”fucking her without me.”

“Oppa,” Eunbi interrupts. Her expression is suddenly serious. “Just do it, please?”

Oh, yeah, as weird as her request is, you don’t say no. If she's merely having your professor do her laundry or arranging a time for some one-on-one tutoring sessions, you take the clothes and take the trip. When Eunbi's upset, you transform into an overly nurturing father.

You almost told the school guard you’re there for boyfriend duties. He’s a friendly guy and would have understood if you actually said it, but you’re so irritated by having to drive all the way back to school that you don’t find it in you to crack jokes.

You meet Taeyeon in the faculty room. “Good afternoon, Professor,” you say, unsure if you should go on with the mommy thing.

Taeyeon is now dressed in a blouse layered with a brown fur sweater. Her beam is so different from the predatory smirk that was on her face earlier. “Good afternoon, pretty boy.” She looks down at Eunbi’s uniform. “What’s this?”

“Um.” You scratch the back of your neck, still flustered by Taeyeon’s coy remark. “Eunbi asked me to give it to you.”

“Ah, thank you. Would you check on me in three minutes, please?”

Another strange request from another beautiful woman. Trying not to look confused, you nod. “Uh, sure, Professor.”

Taeyeon kisses you on the cheek then brings the uniform with her to the bathroom.

You’re becoming more and more suspicious by the second. Everything falls into place a little too perfectly. Wasn’t Taeyeon’s car away from the driveway? If so, why is she here? Why did Eunbi ask you to bring her uniform, and what is your professor doing with them in the bathroom? You’re so close to figuring it out, but anytime you join the puzzle pieces together, they don’t make the right picture.

Three minutes pass anyway, and maybe it’s a wrong decision to knock on the faculty bathroom door, but you do, and—

"You're back, baby boy."

The door opens, as if it were an ominous curtain to one of the drama club's plays.

And the main character herself is in full costume: your teacher pushes her little weight onto the sink with one, practiced hand, dressed head to toe in the school uniform. It's not just any skirt and blouse she's donning—you come to realize that it’s the uniform you gave to her, that it actually belongs to Eunbi. With how slim she is, the uniform fits Taeyeon like a glove.

Her hair is perfectly messed up into brown falls of pillow-soft beauty. Her gaze falls nothing short of sultry, and so do the rest of her actions. Even the way she sets her hand on her hip is graceful. Each thing she does is designed to seduce you, and you'd be a filthy liar if you said it wasn't working.

Her name is all you can say. What else can you utter when she's completely stolen your breath? Locked it into her heart so that it could inhale nothing more than her desire and lust?

"I told you we weren't done yet, didn't I?" Taeyeon says. "And I always keep my word, especially for sweet baby boys like you."

"Mommy…" The title falls from your mouth seamlessly, as if it were a natural thing to say.

"You know," she goes on, suspense in each step as she approaches you, "I wasn't really satisfied with how you bred me. I wanted to really feel what your little girlfriend gets every night from you."

"Did you plan this?"

"You got me." Taeyeon pulls you close. She's smaller than you, but her dominance overpowers that. "Ms. Kwon wants me to feel good. She only wants the best cum for her mommy, and she chose you."

Ah, everything makes sense now. You should have known something was up when Eunbi smiled a little more cheekily, or when she remained on her phone during the ride home. How could you have let it happen right under your nose?

"So, won't you give mommy more, baby? Please?"

You think about it. You've got one of the hottest women you know standing in front of you with the sexiest uniform on. Is this really a chance you'd let slip?

No, but—

"Hands?"

Taeyeon nods immediately. It's as if she knows what you're about to do, so why is she surprised while you tug the uniform tie from her neck in one, swift pull?

Take her thin wrists after she turns around and bind them together with said tie. Taeyeon moans in excitement, even more so when you sweep her off her feet and place her onto the sink counter. The setting is less sexy than you want it to be, but you settle for it. What matters is what you do.

Part her legs and lift the lapels of the offending skirt out of the way. No panties; your teacher is truly the boldest.

Taeyeon's pussy is as ethereal as ever. Her thighs are slick from the wetness it exudes, and from that alone you can just tell that she's been fantasizing about having you fuck her for a while. When you glide your finger across the drenched slit, she whines loudly. Her back knocks at the bathroom mirror.

"Baby, please," she whispers. The plea written in her face is genuine. She tries, to the best of her bound ability, to squirm her hips in your direction. It's an unsuccessful attempt, needless to say. "I need you."

"What do you need, Taeyeon?" Yes, you're shedding the mommy formalities now, even going as far to call her by her first name. Calling her by her sexual title is absurd when you've got her fully under your control.

"Need your tongue."

She lifts her head high like she's reaching heaven due to your teasing kisses on her inner thighs. They draw the path to her soaked cunt, which clenches around thin air as it waits for you to put it out of its misery.

"A little more specific, please?"

"Need your mouth," whimpers Taeyeon. You're crossing uncharted waters now as you kiss around her folds. Her ecstasy is so close, yet so far. "Need your mouth on me. Need you to make me feel good, baby, please."

The watery look in her eyes convinces you to stop the foreplay. You hold Taeyeon's thighs and spread them apart, squeezing them as you go, then go for the kill.

"Ohhh!" With the tie around her wrists, Taeyeon can't hold onto anything but her own fingers to deal with your tongue. You make sure to drum it on her clit as you pump in a finger into her drenched hole. "Baby, oh my god, baby, that feels so good!"

Taeyeon's taste is one you'd remember forever. The tangy sweetness is addicting, and if you could keep your mouth on her pretty pussy forever, you would. For this reason, you serve rough, languid flicks with your tongue on her nub, and strengthen the force of your fingerfucking. With the combined pleasure, Taeyeon squeezes down so tightly that, if her wetness were nonexistent, it would be hard to move. It's lucky that each thrust draws out plenty of delicious nectar.

Taeyeon's thighs quiver as they try to keep themselves open. Her loud sighs fill your ears, and they turn into whiny cries when you brush your fingertips against a certain spot on her walls. Her lips are pursed, her stomach is tight, and her jaw is slack. She learned self-control as a teacher, especially when dealing with rowdy classes, but experience can't stop her incessant mewls.

"Baby, baby, baby," whimpers Taeyeon. "Please. Oh, oh my god, please, I need you."

"That's right, Taeyeon," you say. You lift your head to smirk at her, adding another finger. "You look so pretty when you're being a good girl."

Taeyeon gasps for composure as the praise leaves her more drenched. Your fingers aren't helping at all—they know each curve and spot that makes her writhe. When you've cornered her weaknesses and targeted them, her formal acts as a teacher go straight out of the window. In this school bathroom, she's no longer a teacher, she's not the one in control. Here, she's your good girl, and you'll lord it over her as much as you please.

Your digits curl. Taeyeon's back curves as her screams bounce off the tiled walls. You place a spare hand over her mouth. Her breaths hit your palm with the pleasant company of her broken moans.

"Keep quiet," you say, boring her down with your glare. Her eyes return a frenzied, lustful look. "There could still be people outside, you know. Wouldn't want them knowing how weak you can get for one of the delinquents, no?"

Taeyeon's folds swallow your fingers as they move, and when you finally get knuckle-deep inside her, they hold onto them and refuse to let it go. Therefore, you're forced to thrust bluntly, keeping the length of them inside her and reaching places that her slim ones can only dream of reaching.

She shakes her head. Her long toned legs start to kick wildly. You've seen that before, and you know what it means: she's about to cum. Hard.

She's chanting your name for the hundredth time. Lips pursed, eyes shut, she cries for more. You're a known rebel at school, but you choose this order as one you'd follow.

You place your mouth on her pussy again. As you stimulate the sensitive skin with daring licks and thrusts of your tongue, Taeyeon kicks and moans. She'd do so many things to you if her hands weren't tied: grab your head and pull it deeper between her legs, squeeze her own tits under her blouse, probably even try to wrestle for the upper hand. But she's left as another pretty girl who's yours to use, and for this time, you choose to assault her pink, soaked cunt with your mouth.

The hand that was on her mouth earlier is now firmly rubbing eights on her clit. Taeyeon's screams aren't muffled anymore, and as much as they're loud and deafening, you enjoy it. Who wouldn't when this woman, this forbidden bombshell of a woman, is looking down at you with breaths that quake like her thighs, and says, in a strangled whisper: "I'm going to… fuck, I'm gonna—"

You capture her clit in your lips and slide a third finger inside her.

Taeyeon screams.

Echoing wails of curses and blasphemy leave her open mouth. In everything you do, you do hard and fast. Taeyeon is struggling on the sink, trying to fight her way out of the tight school tie so that she can ride your tongue faster. The only thing she can do is close her thighs to keep you there.

"Baby, oh my god, oh!" Your teacher jerks her spasming core at your tongue, urging it inside her. Her pretty face is beet red. "Mommy's cumming, I can't– I can’t, please, I'm gonna squirt all over your face!"

A spurt of girl cum hits your chin. You slack your jaw to receive more of it in your mouth. You don't stop your frantic licking at her pearl which gets more of the unholy fluid spraying.

She tastes even better when she cums.

"Yes, that’s a good girl," you say. Replace your tongue with your fingertip to be able to drink from her. As her cum messily hoses in the air, you become a thirsted traveler hooking onto the last resort. You eat of her, you drink of her, you fuck her. "Cum for me. Make a mess like the slut you are. Be a good girl."

Tears run down Taeyeon's face. "Yes, please—hnnn, it's too much!"

Her bundle of nerves suffers rapid swiping that draws fire hydrant-like sprays from her. Her whole body is slithering and twitching erratically, yet you keep rubbing her. And you’re not stopping until her shaking legs are too weak to lift themselves and protest, or her throat becomes sore from screaming.

You keep that promise. “No, Taeyeon,” you murmur. Rubbing at her core, you smile down at her. “It’s not too much when you’re with me. I know you have more cum in that pretty cunt of yours, and I’m taking it all.”

It’s fascinating how she’s the one on the bottom now. This writhing, whimpering mess of a girl can’t be the same teacher who rules the classroom with an iron fist. But she is, and her change of personas doesn’t fail to amaze you as she cums and squirts even more. The tiles of the bathroom floor now bear a puddle on its surface, and the mirror reflects something other than Taeyeon’s back and your cruel grin.

Taeyeon’s breaths are accented by the lifts and rests of her tight midriff, seen under the uniform. “Please, baby,” she tells you. Her hips fly off the sink and land back on it as it tries to find a way in avoiding and giving in to your hand at the same time. “Baby, baby– baby, mommy can’t anymore.”

"Yes, you can. Keep cumming for me."

"I-I-I…. ahhh!"

Indeed, she cums more. What you thought would soon end with soft drops becomes a blast again. It's wearing Taeyeon out—her arms and legs are sedentary, and groans pronounce through her broken voice. You kiss her neck and collarbone while your finger does away with her pussy, pushing its limits and boundaries.

"God, you're such a good girl." You kiss the insides of her thighs. "That's it, you can do it. Just a bit more for me."

Her center flexes and squeezes to reach the peak of her orgasm. Taeyeon's sighs are loud and stammered, and you gently silence them with a kiss on her mouth. Her moans are sweet and tired, so you slow the rubbing up to the moment Taeyeon's legs stop quaking.

The aftershock halts. Taeyeon's head relies on the bathroom mirror for support.

"Mmm, oh fuck, baby boy, that felt so good."

"There's more where that came from, mommy."

"Oh, so now you're calling me that."

"Of course, unless…" You pause your careful touches on her legs. "You want me to stop?"

"No, please, don't stop!" Taeyeon shakes her head.

"Why not, mommy?"

"B-because…" she says, before making eye contact with you. Doing so causes her to stop.

Drum your fingers on her hip. "Yes?"

"'Cause I need you to use me, baby boy. I need you to make me cum again and fill my slutty mommy pussy with your load. Need you, need you to breed me, baby boy. That's all I want."

The most inarticulate sentences from Taeyeon make the most sense to you. When she's trying to fight her way out of the makeshift binds and whimpering even without contact with her skin, what else can be deduced? She's a needy woman, and you're the perfect guy to help her out.

What wouldn't you do to fill that pretty cunt? Her pleas are enough for you; you lift her off the sink and bend her over it instead. Can't resist being rough when she's biting her lip like that. Spank her.

"Gonna breed you, Taeyeon," you rasp. You squeeze her ass that peeks from the folds of her pleated skirt. "Gonna fill you up, and you're gonna take it all, won't you?"

Taeyeon nods, her breath long gone. "Yes, yes, please. Give it to me."

It only takes a few unzips and unbuckles for you to completely fill your teacher. Her whole body tenses up beautifully, and the mirror bounces back to you the image of her orgasmic face: eyelids shut, mouth contrastingly open.

"Fuck." Taeyeon bites her lip. "Just like that, b-baby, just keep going."

It's easy to propel yourself inside her when your hands are on her wrists bound behind her bent back. Her trapped fingers crawl and grasp on yours to deal with your anything-but-gentle violations of her pussy.

You propel pleasured expressions of bliss on her face that you can see on the mirror. You can barely see her irises while you fuck her. Must mean you're doing a good job rearranging her guts. You can feel her stomach when you thrust into her.

After feeling her nub for a while, you press on the bulge your shaft creates on her belly. "I'm gonna ruin you, Kim Taeyeon," you tell her, to which she whimpers softly in response. "I'm gonna put a fucking baby in your womb. Fill up this pretty pussy with my load. Do you want that?"

"Yes, yes, yesss," she drawls out. "Fucking breed me. Put that big cock to use, baby. I want it all."

"Oh, of course you do." Speed up, spreading her splayed pussy lips to force it into swallowing your whole shaft. Your cockhead knocks against her cervix, and it turns you on more than it should. "Asking your student for a uniform so you can look like a slutty little schoolgirl for me. If you want to be one, then I'm gonna treat you like one."

Spank her. Each blow from your hand on her clapping cheeks causes her cunt to hold your cock tighter. Her hole clenches and twitches as you abuse her ass, squeezing and slapping the soft flesh to hear her desperate, weak cries. This is the most disrespect you've given to a teacher, even if you're already a trouble child. Can't say you aren't enjoying each second that passes.

"Oh my god, yes!" Taeyeon squeals. In a sudden burst of energy, she fucks herself back on your cock, wanting you and everything but for your rod to stop impaling her. "Fuck me, baby, hurt me! Give me your cum!"

"Fucking cumslut. You'll get all of it."

Your fist ribbons around her hair and pulls back harshly. You kiss her neck and nibble on her earlobe. Your hot breath makes her legs tremble and her hands weaken in the restriction of the tie. She's submitting to you completely, allowing you to do as you please to her. What else can she do anyway, when she asked for it: for you to cum in her, to use her, to treat her like a toy?

Nothing. All she can do is receive your paced thrusts and spanks, be a good girl and bend her body over the sink for your cock to ruin. Never did she think she'd like to be used as much as she likes to use.

Once you've deemed her ass red enough, you switch your attention to her breasts. They're the perfect size to squeeze, and you do plenty of that once you realize her breasts are just as sensitive as Eunbi's. You pinch the nipples harshly, pulling on them to make her cry and rub them for her to squirm her legs together more. In everything you do, her pussy clamps tighter, and she's pushed closer and closer to an orgasm.

"P-please," she whispers weakly. "More, please, I'm so close."

"Promise me you'll take all of my cum." Pressure her into saying so through rubbing her clit. Her ass reverses into your crotch and her desirable body starts to spasm. "Promise me, baby."

"I'll take all of your cum!" Taeyeon sobs. Her voice is so loud that you're sure it passes through the bathroom door. "My tight little pussy will get all of your hot thick cum, I'll let you breed me! Just please make me cum!"

You bear her head down with one hand into the sink counter and fuck her like you mean it. All gentleness is lost now. You ravage her cunt as if you need to do so to live. Spread her velvety walls with your pumps. Let them remember the shape of your cock so that the next time you fuck her it contracts perfectly to your size. Make her sensitivity reach an all-time high.

"Big, so big, so hard inside me—fffuck me!"

Taeyeon leaves a big mess for the janitor to clean up. Her orgasm is wet and violent. It forces her to squirt on the tiled floor and your clothes, forces her to squeeze down so tightly on your rod that it suffocates and explodes inside her. Your groans are humiliatingly loud, but it drowns out in Taeyeon's chants of bliss.

"Oh, shit, baby!" she says. "Give me your cum, breed me, make me a mommy!"

Her moans are high-pitched unlike her serious tone when she teaches. When she instructs the classroom, it's strict, cutting through the air like a knife. Now, she's whining helplessly when she instructs you to breed her, bearing your drills as you fill her insides with your cum.

You don't pull out. It would be disobeying her commands. So, even when she's turned into your submissive babygirl with the help of your harsh pumps, she's still your teacher. You'll always follow her way.

"Yes… fuck me… breed me… use me…" is the last thing Taeyeon murmurs before she loses her strength and collapses on the sink.

You guide Taeyeon to her car and drive her home. She's sleeping beside you on the front passenger seat. Pray nobody sees you as you drive through the exit of your school.

But before all that, you went through Taeyeon's phone, and you saw her messages. To your surprise, there's a conversation log in which she texts your girlfriend Eunbi.

It reads:

Professor Taeng: You brought your uniform here, sweetheart?

Kwon Eunbi ♥︎: he brought it himself

have fun w him, Mommy :3

Professor Taeng: I will ;).

#kpop smut #snsd smut #girls generation smut #kim taeyeon smut #taeyeon smut #snsd taeyeon smut #girls generation taeyeon smut #male reader #x reader #pov smut #reader insert #request #dulce periculum

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saetgvia · 6 months ago

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spark | wriothesley

in which you and wriothesley find an unlikely spark.

CHAPTER ONE: A NOT SO MEET-CUTE

prince!wrio x fem!noble!reader, invented country au

✧ genre: fluff, angst...? maybe...? if you squint...?, arranged marriage trope

✧ tw: none, if you see any lmk <3

✧ word count: 1.32K

✧ playlist: spark - taeyeon, radio - lana del rey, deja vu - txt, darl+ing - seventeen, invu - taeyeon, agora hills - doja cat, killin' me good - jihyo, i like you (a happier song) - doja cat & post malone, fever - enhypen, eleven - ive, hype boy - newjeans, hard to love - rose, sour grapes - le sserafim, oh my god - adele, my head & my heart - ava max, nonsense - sabrina carpenter, the feels - twice

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i. a not so meet-cute

'what.' you stare in disbelief at your parents. 'there's no way. NO. WAY.' arranged marriages only happen in books. of course you'd heard of them in your country of azura, some distant cousin being married to some lord or other for alliances or whatever, but you'd always been free to do what you wanted, marry who you chose. your parents never put any restrictions on you, but this out of the blue is so- 'unexpected! what? i thought-' 'circumstances change.' your father replies shortly. 'i- you- you can't do this!' you cry, becoming more and more panicked. you wanted to fall in love, marry someone you chose! and now, you were going to be pawned off to someone you didn't even know. wait...

'can you at least tell me who i'm being given away to?' 'you're not being given away-' 'oh mom, it's fine. i know how this works. so, who is it?'

wriothesley. the prince of emeia. a name that struck fear into your very soul. not because he was a terrible ruler or a womaniser. he was, in fact, the complete opposite. you'd heard tales from all over the kingdom in the form of gossiping ladies giggling behind fans, sipping their tea and gushing to your mother. she, in turn, laughed daintily, and turned to you with a pointed look. how could she even know? his parents kept him hidden away from the world, their precious son too perfect for mere commoners. no, you were afraid because you didn't know him. because he seemed too good to be true. and most of all, because he was about to become your life. you should have seen this coming.

'i won't go.'

your father's eyes narrow, and you can see his neatly trimmed beard bristling in anger. you've never seen him like this before, and over something as silly as an arranged marriage? your mother puts a placating arm on his bicep, and he shoots her a look, both of them communicating through their gaze. finally, he exhales, evidently trying to calm himself, and speaks.

'we... we're in debt. remember that deal with ceria? the cherry liqueur? they've been selling it for exorbitant prices without giving us any of the profits, and we've been depending on that to get us out of last winter's snowstorms. emeia noticed us struggling and have so kindly offered to refill our coffers in exchange for your hand.' there's a hint of annoyance in his tone, and you begin to understand just how much this is weighing on him. but still, how can you throw your life away like that?

'i'll think about it.'

⭑⭑⭑

'but i don't WANT to!' you shriek into your pillow, kicking your feet in true spoiled girl fashion. your maid, or rather, your friend, giselle, winces, and tries to comfort you.

'hey, maybe it won't be so bad! everyone says he's a sweetheart!'

'but everyone ISN'T BEING MARRIED OFF TO HIM!'

'think about your parents, hon! you can always divorce him later, run away, fake your own death-'

she breaks off at your deadpan gaze, and starts to giggle, until you start to giggle, and you're both in your bed cackling uncontrollably. you wipe tears of mirth from your eyes, and look at giselle over the rumpled sheets, her eyes twinkling, and you wish there were more people like her in the world. sitting up, you clasp her hands between yours, and trace the lines on her weathered palm. you exhale, and make up your mind. you have to marry wriothesley.

'giselle... i'll marry wriothesley. but only if you come with me.'

⭑⭑⭑

'woah woah woAH-' you cry as you stumble. your beautiful, floor-length cherry-red dress, so stunning to look at when you were standing in one place, was nothing but a nuisance when you were walking. for comfort, you'd opted for soft velvet flats instead of the heels sent for you; you could see the flaws in this decision now. but instead of breaking your nose, you're met with shoes. shiny leather shoes, buckled with silver, and a pair of strong - warm - arms gripping your own. slowly raising your head, your eyes land on a beautiful face. chiseled jawline, chiseled nose, chiseled forehead, somehow his neck is also chiseled. but his lips, so plump and pink and soft, and his eyes, like chips of blue ice, hold a twinkle of mirth.

'woah there, careful. wouldn't want you to get hurt.'

his voice is honey, smooth and sweet, and it washes over your ears. you can't stop staring, enthralled by his gaze.

'cat got your tongue?'

you snap out of your daze, realising you're still half on the mysterious stranger, and stumble backwards. you brush your hands over your dress, the gold embroidery rough under your fingers.

'sorry. i uh- i have to go.'

you picked up your skirts and hurried back towards the throne room. you didn't think you could get so lost trying to go to the bathroom! stopping before a mirror adorning the wall, you take a quick look at your appearance. the crimson dress fit your figure wonderfully, golden embroidery curling up the sides and front of your dress, forming a pattern of flames that ended just below your neckline. your hair, so lustrous and thick, had managed to escape its tight bindings, so you gasp heavily as you catch your breath and tie your hair up at the same time, the ribbon cherry-red to match your dress. adjusting yourself one final time, you nod to the guards outside to open the door for you, and walk into the throne room.

you're once again taken by surprise at the grandness of it all. absolutely everything inside is scarlet, a stark contrast to the cool blue drapes of azura. you'd always found it funny how blue was your dukedom's colour and yet your primary export was cherries, something so very opposite. the floor, carpeted in lush red and cream formed a pathway up to the raised thrones, all three of them cushioned by velvet and adorned with gold scrollwork and filigree. behind the thrones and all around, rich tapestries decorate the walls, vermilion depictions of the kingdom's greatest victories. you weren't sure if they were there to celebrate or intimidate. maybe both. a big, booming laugh reaches your ears, and your gaze is drawn to the antechamber towards the back of the room. ah, so that's where they've gone to. you scurry towards the chamber, nodding with as much regal-ness as you could muster towards the servants who caught your eye and sank into a deep curtsy or bow. straightening your dress, again, out of habit, you step into the room.

your parents are laughing, your father releasing his great guffaw and your mother tittering behind her gloved hand. the king of emeia, a warm, welcoming person with greying ebony hair and soft blue eyes was telling some kind of story, while his wife, the queen, sat, watching the scene with adoration and satisfaction. the queen noticed you first, her brown eyes crinkling into a sweet smile as she noticed you.

'oh there you are! we were wondering where you'd gone.'

'sorry... i got a little lost.' you take your seat on another velvet sofa, picking up your cup of tea. the servants appeared to have brought more plates of food in, the table once again covered in delicate china piled high with macarons and pastries and little sandwiches cut into perfect triangles. you pick up one of the treats, a golden swirl of pastry with colourful fruit peeking out, and bite into it. it's heavenly, deliciously flaky and sweet on your tongue. you pick it up and munch happily on it again.

'ah, here he is. wrio! here is the girl we wish for you to marry.'

you choke. because when you look up, you see the same chiseled features, the same lips, the same eyes and the same smile.

'THAT'S wriothesley?'

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from saetgvia: i have never started writing a fic so fast oh my god??? very excited for this fic and i hope you are too <3 stay tuned will have part 2 coming out soon!

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please like and reblog my work! tumblr relies on reblogs to function, so help my work be seen by more people <3 my spark taglist and overall is now open, drop an ask if you want to be added! just specify which one.

#fanfiction #fanfic #fandom #genshin impact #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley fluff #wriothesley x you #wriothesley x fem!reader #spark #genshin impact wriothesley #fluff #arranged marriage

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haespoir · 1 year ago

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me after you: ldh.

⨯ pairing: general!haechan x princess!reader

⨯ word count: 6.2k

⨯ genre: historical au, secret relationship

⨯ summary: being a royal means that you don't have the luxury of marrying for love. but when your younger sister is set to marry your childhood friend turned secret lover, you have to do something.

⨯ content: a lot of angst, mentions of blood, mentions of suicide, character death, open ending

⨯ playlist: fine, taeyeon / lucid dream, aespa / forgetting you, davichi / if it is you, jung seung hwan / how can i love the heartbreak you’re the only one i love, akmu

⨯ a/n: this comes after watching scarlet heart in one sitting. please be kind, this is the longest thing i've written in a while! feedback is always welcome ♡ . . .

You’re barely 10 years old when you first see him. You’re crouched behind a tree as you watch your brother Jaemin from a distance, an unfamiliar male by his side. You have no idea what they’re speaking about, but frankly, you don’t care much. You just want to know more about the male next to Jaemin.

You've heard numerous stories of love at first sight. You’ve always believed that your first love would come and sweep you off your feet, that they would come in and whisk you away from the palace. But that’s not what he does. Instead, he fills your mind with fantasies, scenarios you only wish you could pursue with him. You imagine nights under the stars with him, being wrapped in his arms would be a dream come true. All this and you don’t even know his name.

Suddenly, your muse for art is at its all-time high. You stray away from the usual flowers and bright colors. Dark colors make an appearance, and an unnamed male becomes the star of your paintings. It’s odd how someone you’ve never had a full conversation with occupies your mind.

There’s this odd hunger that makes a home in your heart. Something that can never be calmed. At least not by you. Not by anyone but your mystery man.

It’s not until a few weeks later that you get a name to match the face. Lee Donghyuck, the son of Grand General Lee. You know right away that he is destined to do nothing but good in his life. A man who can save countless countries in your eyes.

You finally formally exchange names with him. It’s a wonder really, the way just a few words have you flying on cloud nine. “Lee Donghyuck,” he had said, voice sweeter than honey. It was sad how quickly you became smitten.

But it seems you are not the only one because it doesn’t take long for the two of you to click. You’ve got a routine going, a secret shared amongst yourselves. Late nights turn into adventures, hand in hand the two of you explore everything the night skies have to offer.

Looking into the eyes of Donghyuck you swear that he holds your whole universe there. He is limitless. The stars are not confined to just his eyes; they float in his voice when he whispers sweet words to you, and they dance along from his skin to yours when you touch. They surround him with this celestial warmth that is blinding to you.

It doesn’t take you long to realize it, but you’ve fallen in love with Lee Donghyuck, desperately in love; it stays that way for years to come.

And then the letters are sent out.

. . .

You are invited to the royal wedding...

Your attendance is requested at the wedding celebration of PRINCESS YI MIYOUNG and GENERAL LEE DONGHYUCK on the evening of Saturday, the 5th of January in the year of 1540 of King Jaehyun’s rule.

The celebration will be held in the estate gifted to the prince consort and the princess after the formal wedding ceremony in the royal palace. Guests are required to bring forth a gift that will be presented to the bride and groom as well as the original invitation, which is to be presented on entrance. This invitation is extended to the immediate members of the recipient’s household.

His Majesty, King Jaehyun

Father of the bride.

. . .

Anger is a foreign emotion to you. But soon, you’ll find it’s your best friend.

The date of the wedding weighs down on your soul. It crushes any hope that you have. Like a harsh wind, it blows out the flickering light of hope you have, and it leaves you covered in a darkness that you are unfamiliar with. Sorrow courses through your veins, but its presence is barely acknowledged. There’s something else there that takes control.

Anger.

It clouds your senses until it's all you see. A white flash of rage. A single swipe of your arm leaves your tea cups broken on the floor. Tears of anger slip down your face, but it makes things worse. You’re weak, so weak. And you’re an emotional mess.

You wish you could be angry at your father for allowing it to happen. At Donghyuck for making empty promises, or even Miyoung, for just being Miyoung. But you can’t. It’s impossible. Your anger is directed at one person only– yourself.

You hate yourself. It becomes a cycle of self-loathing. You’re unable to be angry at anyone but yourself. You are too careless with your heart. How could you have been so foolish? You know better than anyone else that there’s no room for love when it comes to the royal family.

You rip the decorative accessories from your hair and throw them with all the strength you can muster. Even so, they don’t make it far. They land in front of an unfinished painting, the image haunting you. A painting meant for Donghyuck. How could you bring yourself to finish it now?

A piece of glass catches your attention. How easy would it be to end your suffering? A simple cut would be enough, would it not? You could be free of all the politics, free of the pain. The glass feels heavy in your hand and suddenly, you are weighing out your life options.

But the more you think about it, the more your anger manifests. How could you allow someone to have so much control over your life? You’ve given your heart away so easily, and you aren't sure if you’ll ever get it back.

Without realizing it, your grip on the shard of glass tightens and soon you’re drawing blood. But with your emotions running so wild, you don't even feel the pain. Scarlet tears stain your clothing, but you don't mind. Not now.

You’re tired, tired of being walked all over. You’re tired of not having a say in your life. But– at the same time– you’ve lost all care. Bitterness seeps into your heart, and you feel like giving up.

However, you refuse to be weak this time around. You’ve been kicked into the dirt once again, but you won’t allow yourself to be buried. You will grow this time, and this time with more resilience than before.

You watch as another drop of blood falls from your hand. This time, you’ll care only for yourself. This time, you will only care for your own happiness. You’ll face everyone with a fake smile. You’ll congratulate the married couple. And you won’t reveal your sorrow.

. . .

It feels as if a weight has been lifted off Donghyuck’s chest. There had been a few hiccups, but he had survived greeting his future wife. It’s not like he really wanted to, but he knew he had a role to fill. Miyoung wasn’t at fault; it wasn’t as if she had approached her father and begged to allow her to marry him.

No, it should have been you to do that.

But he also knew that you were not in the proper position to make those demands. He sighs softly; what a truly frustrating experience this was. The meetings with Miyoung and the King had been draining, but it was clear that they were to be married for political reasons only. After all, Donghyuck came from a family of generals who were completely loyal to the crown.

As if the sky was reflecting his exhausted nature, the sun had begun to set. The light was slowly dying, a beautiful pink hue painted across the sky. You would have loved to see this sunset; it was one of your favorite activities, just chatting away under the disappearing sun.

Had he been more aware, he would have heard you approach him. Standing in front of him was a princess, and he would argue that she was his favorite one.

His surroundings seemed to be muted in comparison to you. There was nothing as vibrant as his lover, if he dared still call you that. Almost instantly, his heart clenches; it hammers within his chest like the war drums sounding his army’s march. It was almost as if his heart was echoing its intent for you.

“Princess…” Donghyuck catches himself, addressing you with your proper title before an affectionate nickname can slip past his lips. “I hope you are well.” He bows with a foreign eagerness to place as much distance between the two of you as possible.

As he gazes at you, he begins to wonder if betraying the crown is worth it. If it meant he could hold you in his arms he believes he would forsake the entire country for you. That thought alone is terrifying, and it goes against everything his father has taught him.

So with as much courage as he can, and it’s not a lot, he speaks again: “I bid you farewell.”

There’s an undeniable feeling that pools in your stomach as you look at him. It’s an ache that squeezes your heart so tightly it’s hard to breathe. There’s no one else that you would want to spend your life with, yet he is the same person who is forbidden to you.

In your bandaged hand is a piece of fabric, one that holds the love and affection you have for the male in front of you. Intricate stars are laced through the dark fabric, representing the countless nights the two of you had spent together. So many sleepless nights spent on something for a man you could no longer love. A man you could no longer call your own.

“Donghyuck,” you say, almost choking on the tears that you refuse to let fall. There's a feeling of happiness that blinds your senses when you see him, yet you can also feel your heart break at his cautious nature. How could the affection that once laced his words be completely gone? The words that left his mouth felt foreign, and they left you feeling bitter.

“Please accept this,” you whisper, nearly begging. You barely manage to grip his sleeve; it seems he is in a rush to leave you. That idea only has your heart hurting even more. Your nights amongst the stars seem so distant now. He seems so distant now.

The way you said his name hurt. Even if he had scars covering his body from war, none would hurt as much as it did hearing you call his name out like that. He did not want to do this, it would be so easy to leave and run away, but when a princess begs, it is in your best interest to act in favor of the princess.

Duty before self. Crown before duty. Country before the crown. These were words that he was taught since he was just a young boy. It was these same words that now haunt his every decision. Duty to the crown– the king had decreed his partner for life. There should be no space within his heart for you. Yet, you occupy all.

With trembling hands, his heart overriding the screams of protest in his head, he takes the star-laced fabric. Quickly, his eyes dart around, checking to see if the two of you were truly alone. Once that’s confirmed, he doesn’t hold back. Calloused hands cup the delicate face of a princess, your beauty clouded by the tears gathering in his eyes.

“What are you expecting?” He asks.

Maybe hours later, when he’s regained control of his emotions and he’s alone, he’d probably berate himself for giving into his weakness. However, right now, the crown be damned. It nearly broke his heart to see you hurting, especially when he loved you so dearly. All because you wanted him to accept a gift, which he’s sure is a parting gift. Even if he wants to deny it. He could be heartless in his duty to the crown, however, this was too much. “I’m already promised to Miyoung,” he says softly, his thumb caressing your cheek. “You know the king’s decision is final, and I cannot love you. We cannot be seen like this.”

“Leave me.” He whispers, watching as the tears that had pooled in your eyes begin to fall. “And forget me.”

“Forgive me,” he thinks to himself.

It’s a concept that is foreign to you; the fact that his words hurt more than any physical wound- you’ve never felt anything like this. His words are like needles, and your heart is their resting place.

Like always, Donghyuck is able to take your breath away. But this time he’s left you with no air, and no words as well. You don’t know what you had expected to become of the two of you– after all, Donghyuck was always someone who chose his country and the crown over anything.

“I can't accept it,” you sob. And even if you tried, you don’t know how to. There's no one else in the palace who you love as much as you love Donghyuck. And it’s so difficult for you to come to terms with.

“I can’t leave you, and I can’t forget you,” you recited as if it was a mantra that had been playing in your mind for days. And you had. Your thoughts had been consumed with Donghyuck since you had met him.

Donghyuck, without much thought, presses his lips to yours. As if it's the most natural thing for him to do, as if he wishes to ease the pain of your breaking hurt. And it works, if only briefly.

You relish the feeling of his lips against yours, a feeling you find yourself not knowing you missed. You never realized how hungry you were for Donghyuck until you got a taste. Like a drug, you’re not sure if you’re able to give him up. Your grip on his sleeve tightens, unable to let go of him.

But no matter how selfish you wish to be, you can’t.

An internal conflict impossible for you to escape. You pull away from him quickly, tears spilling from your eyes freely now. How could you do this to Miyoung? How could the king do this to you?

Donghyuck had lost to his own weakness; he had lost to his own emotions. Everything always came back to you. Your lips were just as he remembered. You were an addiction to him as well, and he wondered if he’d ever be able to quit.

He knew you. He knew the meaning of those tears; he could see the conflict brewing within your eyes.

“You're thinking about Miyoung, aren’t you?” He says softly, his hands moving to curl stray hair behind your ear. “You’re unable to betray your sister, as I am unable to betray the king.”

He’s once again brushing your tears away with his fingers. “So much for being a general,” he bitterly thinks to himself. He wishes he had the courage to ask you to run away with him, but he has a family to think about. He has to think about his duty to the crown and to his family. Unknowingly, tears had also begun to fall from his eyes. “The moment the King announced our marriage it was over. What did you expect coming to see me here?”

His words are once again stabbing at your heart.

“Of course, I'm thinking about your wife,” you say, “My sister. Your wife. A person who gets to spend their nights in your arms.” It hurts even more as you speak, the words leaving your lips in soft breaths. It’s official, Lee Donghyuck has broken you.

The feeling of his fingers on your face brings back nostalgic memories. Instinctively, you lean into his touch. There is nothing that you wouldn’t give up for Donghyuck– you were just that in love with him. But you were just a princess– a princess willing to give up their title and life just for some general. And while you want to say that you’re unsure if Donghyuck would do the same, you know his loyalty to the crown is undying. And that is what tears your heart apart.

“Do you know how difficult it is?” There are so many nights where you find that sleep doesn’t welcome you with open arms anymore. Instead, it turns its back to you, ignoring your pleas as you spend the night tossing and turning.

It’s hard for you to speak; you’re choking on tears. You don't know what you expect from Donghyuck anymore. Your situation has become so complicated. It's hard for you to even comprehend.

“I can't expect the same love I once received, I know I can't,” you say weakly, hating how difficult it was for you to speak. “But I do. Donghyuck– I crave it. I miss you so much.”

“To-be. Wife to-be. We’re not married yet.” He states bitterly, doing his best to draw the line distinctively. “She will not spend her nights with me. I have not touched her hand, her lips, or her.”

It’s like daggers are embedding themselves into his heart with each word. He does his best to defend himself and calm your anxieties as he speaks. “I will sleep in my own study even if we are wed.”

“To be or is, what difference does it make? You are no longer mine Donghyuck– why can’t I grasp it?” you speak with anger towards yourself now, each word produces a new cloud of darkness in your heart, a feeling you’re becoming used to unfortunately.

You’ve come to a full circle of blaming yourself. You’re the one to blame, had you not fallen for Donghyuck that fateful day, this wouldn’t be happening. Had you begged the king to allow you to wed Donghyuck instead of Miyoung, maybe you would have gotten your happy ending.

But it’s too late for that now. Even the thought of Donghyuck spending a night with Miyoung pains you. Though you want nothing best for your siblings– if Donghyuck is Miyoung’s best, you might find yourself changing your mind.

“You are always the last thought that I have before I close my eyes. You were my very last thought when I thought I was on the verge of dying.” His words are earnest as he speaks. “You are the one that kept me strong on the way back home, back to you. I thought about your crying face and fought the reapers who had come to claim me.”

Donghyuck’s hands drop to your waist as he pulls you into him, holding you close. “The love you’ve once received is still here.” He takes your hand and places it over his chest. “You will always be in my heart until the day I breathe my last breath.”

You grip the fabric that separates your hand and his heart. “You plague my every waking thought, Donghyuck. And even when I think I can be free of you– you appear again. Countless nights I prayed for your safety. I prayed for you to come back. To come back to me.” But that’s not the reality you get. Your father had rewarded the man you loved for winning the war by giving him your younger sister’s hand in marriage. How cruel.

“It is torture to give a man your heart and soul only for it to be rejected because the crown and country are placed higher than you,” you say, hitting his chest with your balled-up fist. “It is truly torture having to hide away from your family because you’re ashamed. Ashamed to face your sister for loving her soon-to-be husband. Ashamed at the fact that I couldn't even be vocal about how much I loved you– how much I do love you.”

You move to cup his cheeks, your thumbs caressing his face in ways that you can only hope to express how much affection you still hold for him. “What are we to do? What am I to do?”

Donghyuck swears this is like a dead game of go, several stones are already stuck. Defeat is imminent. Perhaps he is going soft and becoming vulnerable. He had heard this is what love does to a person. He had warned those who learned from him that placing too much focus on one objective would be their downfall. Yet here he is, doing everything in his power to keep you safe and by his side.

Even if he meant betraying his loyalty.

It would be simple; avoid the engagement and wedding as long as he could. Then, when your brother Jaemin takes the throne, he could annul the engagement. It would have to work; it was the only way. For this to work, the King must die.

He could do it in five years, maybe even four. An illness, or a coup. Something like that could work, right? The thought alone makes his heart race. Someone with an undying loyalty to the crown, thinking such treasonous thoughts.

He looked at you, the love of his life. He could see the pain that flickered in your eyes. Were you worth committing high treason for? To go against the crown and country? To go against everything he had ever known?

The answer was blatantly yes.

Would your love survive if he was the one to end the life of your father? Even if it was a perfect crime, would his own soul survive dealing with the guilt?

“I love you.” He whispered, pulling you into him once again. Donghyuck closed his eyes, willing away the demons forming in his mind. When someone you love more than life is in pain, it is a very simple decision to make on the spot.

Donghyuck lies.

“It will all be fine,” he says. “I will find a way for us. Can you wait?”

One look into his eyes, and you know he’s planning something. You can hear the cogwheels turning in his brain. Like a true General, or to-be Grand General– you know he wastes no time in making plans. You know him too well, after all, he was once your Donghyuck.

Being in his arms was where you belonged, where you would happily spend the rest of your days. But that was not so easy anymore. You could no longer hold the affection you once held for him.

Logically, it’s not right. You know it’s not. It's your loyalty to your sister that reminds you of this every single day. Miyoung was a princess, and you would not allow your sister’s reputation to be tarnished. There were just some things that were above you. Anyone with a brain knows that this is not just some easy mistake to be fixed.

But you have always followed your heart.

So you allow yourself to fall into Donghyuck once more. “I love you as well,” you breathe out, your voice barely above a whisper. You can hear his steady heartbeat as you place your head on his chest; it calms your aching soul. Donghyuck is your sun, your moon, and all your stars. You know that he is someone you’re willing to fight for.

“I will wait for you until the end of time, you know that.” The words slip past your lips effortlessly, a white lie in its purest form. You know that Donghyuck will always be in your heart, but you also know how the world works. It works in cruel and unfortunate ways.

A princess as soft-spoken as you will never get what you want. You are a pawn to others. You know soon enough that you will be married off– just as your sister was. And when the time comes, will you still be able to put Donghyuck above all else?

“But are you able to wait for me?”

He leans away from you to look at your face, his hands not leaving your waist. “I fought death for you,” he thinks to himself, feeling his heart swell at the image of you.

“Is this doubt I hear?” He gazes at you with false anger, a playful smirk decorating his features. “You dare doubt the hero, the Grand General Lee Donghyuck?”

“I will wait for you until the end of time,” He says, leaning in and stealing several small kisses between each word. You allow yourself to be showered in his love, and you enjoy the feeling wholeheartedly. You carve the feeling of his lips against your skin into your mind. You won’t ever allow yourself to forget it; you won’t allow yourself to forget your love. Separating himself from you, Donghyuck takes a step backward, his hands gently holding both of yours.

“I’m not good with words,” he begins, looking down at your intertwined hands. “But since I’ve already broken my own vow to stay away from you, I might as well speak freely now. I had prepared for months to say this, hoping that I would get to say it when I received your hand from the King.”

He takes a breath, his gaze meeting yours.

“Once, as a young boy, my father told me to never stare at royalty. We should keep our heads bowed. And I took that to heart until you. How could I not look at the most beautiful person in the palace? For the first time in my life, I took a gamble. I asked Jaemin to introduce me to you. I was just his sparring partner then, and I thought I would have been executed for that.”

Donghyuck thinks back to that day, smiling fondly at the reactions he remembered receiving from Jaemin. Why was his sparring partner interested in his sister? It hadn’t made sense to Jaemin then, and a part of Donghyuck almost wishes he never asked.

“Jaemin introduced us, and when you smiled at me… I was never able to look away. If not for you, I don’t think I would have ever known a love so deeply in my life. I fell in love with you when I was ten, just a young boy,” he smiles, giving your hands a gentle squeeze.

“I’m twenty-three now, and I’ve been loving you more and more each and every day since I was ten. I regret not a second of it.”

You know that your end is coming soon.

But with every word, Donghyuck makes it so much harder for you to give him up. His words cause your mind to run; it runs to a place where the two of you are free to love each other.

However, that place is not here.

You two are but a small chapter in the novel of this country, a small insignificant chapter. And you realize that now.

Yet your heart still races at his words. You know that you are Donghyuck’s weakness. So it leaves you no choice but to be the strong one in your situation.

“Every second I've spent with you, there is not a single regret that plagues them. You have given me the love I never knew I needed.” You raise your intertwined hands, placing a gentle on the back of his hand.

“And for that, I thank you. The first time I laid my eyes on you, I knew you would be more than just a man to me. I've given you my whole heart, and I can only hope you keep it safe.” Your words pain you. You know this is your goodbye, the last time you will ever see Donghyuck with these feelings of love dancing in your heart.

So you press one last soft kiss against his lips before you speak again: “I should head back to my quarters, as should you. It's quite late. Be safe.”

With these last words, you let go of your first love and quickly turn for your room. The farther you get, the more tears fall. You wonder if it’s really better this way.

. . .

It is a good thing that Donghyuck had not spoken of his treasonous thoughts to you because they fall through so quickly.

The silence in the air becomes a newfound friend to you. Something you once detested before now brings you endless comfort. The day is coming sooner than you hoped. You must congratulate your sister. You must congratulate the love of your life, Lee Donghyuck, for getting married to your dear sister.

It hurts. It hurts like hell. There are so many things you wish you would have done differently. You wish that you didn’t meet Lee Donghyuck– that you never fell in love with him. You shouldn’t have given everything away so easily. Because now, you’ve become a fool, a pawn in this game of chess. All of you have.

You’ll be okay. It's a mantra that repeats in your head like a broken record. He's not worth it. Nobody should have control over your life like Donghyuck does. It’s time for you to let go.

And so you try.

The moon supplies no light in the dark garden. Yet, you are there. Your canvas is set– Donghyuck’s unfinished painting there. The dark sky is displayed on the once white canvas, small stars littered sparsely amongst the space. Two figures bask in the glow provided by the white paint. Figures that were once Donghyuck and you have been completely remade into Donghyuck and Miyoung.

It ignites anger in your faint heart once again. But the healing scar on the palm of your hand reminds you to never take the anger out on yourself, never again.

So you take your anger out on the painting.

With a heavy grip, you stab your paintbrush into the canvas. Before your eyes, the painting becomes two pieces. Something you wish their marriage would become.

But it hurts you to even think these ill thoughts. You care for your sister so much. And you care for Donghyuck even more. Yet there’s this new evil that rests in your heart. Suddenly, becoming bitter seems easier than letting go. And it definitely looks more attractive with every second that passes.

It takes a few days of peaceful meditation, but you find yourself in the garden again. Your muse this time, a budding flower. A representation of the new relationship that will bud between the two. A representation of the new take on life you have.

The color blue stains your fingers. A color for freedom and peace. This painting is made with Donghyuck in mind. The words “I forgive you," are woven throughout the flower. And you only hope that Donghyuck is able to understand it.

The nights following your breakdown instilled a resolve that you could have never found yourself following. A path laced thoroughly with bitterness and hatred. A path completely unfamiliar to you. But it’s a path you will now call your own. For you have learned that those with a faint heart can’t survive. They won’t survive. And now you will do whatever it takes to survive.

You spend the night before the wedding in the garden again. It is foolish for you to hope that Donghyuck will arrive. You know that it is wishful thinking. As you walk the path engraved in the ground made by the two of you, you know it is the last time.

. . .

The morning brings signs of your new beginning. A new you. This is your chance at a new life. You will create a new path for yourself, a path you will now travel alone. You no longer need Donghyuck. All you need is yourself.

Your resilience is stronger than ever before. But you know that your weakness rests in your heart; you would be foolish to lie to yourself and say it doesn’t. You have always been someone who loves wholeheartedly. From a young age, you gave everything you had to offer to those you love. You had given your heart to Lee Donghyuck, and now you had to give him to your sister.

You arrive at the wedding on time. But the happiness in the air has no effect on your mood. You’re sad and heartbroken– it’s inevitable. But you don't let it show.

Sitting through the ceremony hurts. It’s expected, but you begin your healing process quickly. You lower your expectations for Donghyuck. You no longer expect anything from him. Not even a glance.

And so, your eyes stray from him. They only stay on Miyoung. Your heart hurts for the younger princess. You know that she wants nothing more than to not be married to Donghyuck. You know that someone else resides in the heart of your sister. Yet you hope she is able to find happiness. You don't wish for darkness to form in her sister’s heart.

. . .

“Your Highness, your sister comes bearing gifts.”

You stand tall, a soft smile on your lips. “For her highness, an embroidered scroll.” The scroll your maid hands over tells the tale of sorrow you feel for your younger sister. An arrangement of flowers decorates the fabric, a single daisy being the star of the show. A flower to represent hope and innocence. You pray that Miyoung is able to keep her hope throughout this marriage and that her innocence never fades.

“And a painting for you, General Lee.” The bitterness that dances on your tongue makes it hard for you to keep your composure, but you do your best. The blue carnation decorating the canvas is not something that you have ever laid your eyes upon. Rather something you have created for Donghyuck himself. The last thing you will ever create for him.

“I wish you both a prosperous marriage.'' Those are your final words as you bow. Your eyes avoid Donghyuck's as you leave, disappearing from his sight once the door is closed. You only wish that all involved can find happiness. For this is the last time you will allow yourself to be heartbroken like this.

. . .

King Jaehyun gathers everyone’s attention with a clear voice that rings out clearly in the chilly night air. He motions to the tables set around a fire that blazes in the middle to warm the guests against a biting winter breeze.

Daughters sit with fathers, quietly gazing away from the king out of politeness. Sons sit with their mothers, quiet and attentive, ready to hang upon the King’s every word. Here marks the start of a toast: from a father wishing the best to his daughter in her married life, from a king looking proudly on his son in law who’s already achieved so much in such a short amount of time. There is a moment when the mantle of the king is laid down and instead, the wishes of a father ring out into the night.

It's obvious that the princess is unhappy sitting next to her now husband. It's obvious that her husband looks as if he wants to be anywhere else, beaten down already as he is by the rumors and the whispers about his wife and their marriage bed.

The King can see it all clearly, but to them, he wishes them lifelong happiness. He hopes that in the end, they’ll find it. And he expects that they will.

No one notices the looks that are shared slyly behind his back between certain members of the court. Everyone is far too interested in the married couple at the head of their table, seated close to the King. They’re far too invested in the King’s words, and the gleam of pride in his eyes when he looks over at the married couple as he is ready to put the cup to his lips. It’s a signal for everyone else to do the same, and so they do.

It's a shame, really, that no one notices. This all could have been avoided if they had.

The toast ends with a sip of alcohol in the King’s presence, all members of the party turning away from him to drink from their cups. It doesn’t start right away– people put down their cups, and there’s once again a dull chatter that bubbles through the crowd. After all, no one is expecting a red wedding.

It takes a few minutes to settle in the system. Most poisons do. First, it’s the princess who coughs up blood, staining her hanbok a dark shade of crimson. That’s when the panic begins, her coughing not stopping; she continues to cough and bleed, unable to breathe from the poison that’s boiling hot in her system.

It's not just the princess though.

Several members of the court are clutching at their robes, heaving and clawing in fevered desperation to cling to their lives. The poison is fast acting. And it leaves the princess, the Minister of Defense, and a General as cold as the night air.

In the blink of an eye, two sons become the head of their family, forced to take on the mantle of their dead fathers. In the blink of an eye, a princess is stolen from the world. And in the blink of an eye, three families are torn apart and heartbroken. For a long moment, there’s silence. The King is pale.

And then all you can hear is the wailing of the groom.

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